


Warning Signs

by Hmmmmbo (Wearingdeantoprom), YesItsBread69 (Kikislasha)



Series: Little Red Rider and the Big White Wolf. [1]
Category: Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types
Genre: 69 (Sex Position), Alternate Universe - Werewolf, Anal, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Bad Wolf, Big Bad Wolf - Freeform, Blood and Gore, Blood and Injury, Blow Jobs, Bottom Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia, Bottom Jaskier | Dandelion, Brutal Murder, Deepthroating, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Geralt needs to learn how to stay, Geralt of rivia is injured, Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia Thinks He Is a Monster, Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia is a werewolf, Healer Jaskier, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Minor Character Death, Non-Canonical Character Death, Nonbinary Character, Nonbinary Jaskier | Dandelion, Rimming, Rough Sex, Top Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia, Top Jaskier | Dandelion, Werewolf Courting, Werewolf Culture, Werewolf Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia, Werewolf Reveal, fairytale AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-07
Updated: 2020-11-03
Packaged: 2021-03-08 03:21:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 5
Words: 42,370
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26868847
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wearingdeantoprom/pseuds/Hmmmmbo, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kikislasha/pseuds/YesItsBread69
Summary: Who were they trying to fool? They were naked, thighs still shaking from an orgasm and they were sure that cum was dripping down the back of their leg...and they thought they could save Geralt’s life?Fuck, they were a mess.A very dirty retelling of a classic fairytale; Little Red Rider makes their way through the dark forest to return home with the treats of their travels. They find something, someone, they did not expect, and the handsome stranger puts their healing focus to the test.
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion
Series: Little Red Rider and the Big White Wolf. [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1960174
Comments: 47
Kudos: 250
Collections: Wasn't Quite Expecting This (But I Loved It)





	1. Beware the Wolf in the Woods

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! Fellow Bread here with just a few little housekeeping notes: Not all the tags will be present in the first chapter, so stay tuned in to updates if you see something that tickles your fancy. We have Jaskier using they/them pronouns in this story, as Feral Bards (and Little Red heroins) have some big enby energy. Come for the porn and stay for the plot (and leave a lil kudos or comment if you’re as hungry as Geralt for more) Enjoy the first chapter!
> 
> Hello From the Himbo: Just so all you lovelies are aware, This story is complete and is being edited! YAY Stay tune for more <3

Once upon a time, in a village surrounded by mountains and forest, lived a young healer named Little Red Rider. Well at least that is what many called them, for though their name was Jaskier, they were often seen in the village and beyond travelling in the long patchwork red leather cape that their grandmother had made them. They would wander far across the mountain ranges and back again with stories and delights; remedies and hard-to-source ingredients; songs of love affairs and mysteries. Many secretly wished to travel so widely, but none would admit to it out loud. Little Red Rider was a strange soul, often called eccentric, and there were many rumours about their Grandmother having known (or even been) the Witch of the Woods. For though the villagers longed for the news of the outside world, many were afraid of what dangers it may bring.

The forest that clawed up the slopes of the mountains grew thick and dark around the town--and there were seldom visitors that braved the dense thickets and misleading paths to come and visit. It was a quiet, lonely, and loving place--and save for the odd distasteful disagreement between the more industrious villagers, most kept their opinions to themselves and lived in as much peace as they could carve out from the mountain’s meadows.

Little Red Rider had been away for weeks--their recent wanderings had brought them to the edge of a crystal-clear lake where they had met a water nymph in the shallows. She had shared with them a song about mist that was now firmly stuck in their head (along with the memory of the strangely chilly kiss she had given them) that would go very well with the stock of whiskey that was currently strapped to Pegasus’ back. Jaskier imagined that it would give the local tavern something to celebrate for a change.

Pegasus snorted and tossed their head with the reins, complaining about the pace. Even on foot, Jaskier could not go slow enough for this horse…

“Ah, yes we are nearing the town now...and if we’re lucky we’ll make it there before nightfall. You’d prefer your stable to being out here in the woods after dark, I know that, you silly horse.” They chided in a sing-song voice that seemed to call out for every wildflower in the woods. The afternoon sun was filtering through the forest leaves, night was enough of a ways off that Jaskier’s complaint to their lazy steed was not a serious one. Pegasus snorted and begrudgingly followed. Little Red Rider was bringing back many things for the village this time, as winter was just around the corner and people were wont to seek comforting things in cold times.

Jaskier’s eyes flitted across the forest flora as they walked; they were always searching for the tell-tale signs of the medicinal herbs to stock their stores… Something their grandmother had passed down along to them. There was a large clearing coming up on the path, filled with late-blooming wildflowers, and their smile pricked.

“We always have room for a few more things, don’t we Peg?” They chuckled and steered off the path. Not more than a few steps away from the clearing, however, there was a strange sound coming from ahead and Little Red Rider startled back towards Pegasus for a moment to see if it would repeat.

“...Hello?”

A soft moan came up from over the side of a gully. It was deep and masculine, but whoever it was, they sounded in pain. Little Red Rider had a momentary thought of minding their own business--but Peg whinnied and nudged Jaskier with their nose.

“Okay, Okay…” Jaskier murmured to the horse. The ridge downwards did not have a clear path and Jaskier had to lower themself by the roots that clung to the side of the embankment to work their way down towards the noise.

They had to admit to a small thrill of adrenaline as they scaled down the gully; already hearing Pegasus lowering their head to the green tips of the grass to munch while Jaskier explored. That horse always had an ulterior motive… As too did Little Red Rider have an inclination to satisfy their curiosity. 

They reached the bottom of the gully, finding themself in a long rooted corridor--this particular part of the woods was dark and lush with vegetation. It was much older than the trees surrounding the town. Vines crawled up the sides of the roots and trunks and the ground was covered in a luxurious moss, most likely a spring bubbled nearby. The aromas of loam and heady greens filled Jaskier’s nose as they delved deeper.

“Hello…?” They repeated and another noise sounded, this time a muffled whimper. Like someone covering their mouth to keep from crying out. It was enough though, to lead Jaskier around the side of a large oak to find the source of the strange sounds. There, nestled into the hollow of the tree, was a man.

Jaskier pulled back some of the moss cascading from the old roots like tapestries and got a better look. The man’s skin was pale and held a map of scars old and new, streaks of mud darkened patches around his neck and down to where his hair fell a silvery white. Not unlike that of Jaskier’s grandmother’s. His face though, was not lined with age. He was young. Maybe a few years older than Jaskier. His long dark lashes bunched on pale cheeks, pain evident on his face. Jaskier drew more of the moss aside, already determined to help and realized that beneath the dirt and grime, the man was completely naked... And there was an arrow jutting out from his side.

“You’re hurt!” Was their immediate reaction, and their hands were on their satchel, feeling for the bottle of clear alcohol, bandages, and water with practiced hands, “My gods, what kind of fight left you like this?” They uncapped the waterskin and offered it as they approached, without shame or fear.

The man’s eyes opened and Jaskier was fixed with a deep amber stare. He rasped a menacing growl and Jaskier held up their hands as the man bolted upwards to flee. As the man moved, Jaskier could now see just how much blood he had lost. The mossen ground on which he had been resting was almost black with fresh and dried blood. They could see his fingers were red where they had pressed around the arrow, his long finger nails mimicking the sharpness of the weapon. 

The man didn’t get far. His legs were weak and he didn’t make it past pushing to his knees before slumping over with a small sob of pain, and Jaskier took a step towards him again.The man called out, his voice muffled by the moss and ground from where he’d fallen.

“Leave me.”

Jaskier snorted. He would do nothing of the sort--imagine the story they’d bring back: Oh yes, I found a bloodied injured man in the woods, naked and prickling with arrows! What did I do, you ask? Oh, I left him there… to die. The end. That was just bad storytelling. They held out a hand instead, still offering water. 

“I- I can help…” They said in the calmest tone they could muster, “People say I’m good at helping.” They paused a moment, “Well, some people... Sometimes say that I’m helpful. Sometimes unhelpful people say that I’m annoying or suspicious… but some good people sometimes say that I’m more helpful than they imagined I’d be--”

“Fuck off-” The wounded man grit his teeth and curled up with his back to Jaskier’s prattle. 

Little Red Rider would not.

“I’m a healer--that is, I know about- healing… and I’ve treated arrow wounds before--” only a small exaggeration, “And if you really want to die in the woods you surely will if you do not let me help…” They were canny enough not to assist without being asked to help--but they could see the wound seeping around the shaft of the arrow, “...please let me help you, oh gods… Do you truly wish to perish this way?” They moved forward against their better sense, but the man growled again. Jaskier stopped.

They watched the man’s nose wrinkle as he bared his teeth looking far more wolven than human. Jaskier was sure that those teeth were sharper than they should be. 

“Leave!” The man roared for good measure.

“Or what, you’ll bleed on me?” Jaskier frowned, watching the stranger’s ribcage heave with his breathing at even this level of exertion, “I can just wait until you pass out from the blood loss or pain… and try to heal you then. Trust me, there’s a much higher chance of you living if you decide to accept my help before that though… Again, speaking from a bit of experience here.”

The body of the strange man remained tight and rigid, ready to fight or flee but it was only for moment longer. He let out a sigh and with it seemed to go much of his fight. His shoulders dropped and Jaskier could clearly see his pain and exhaustion. It seemed to take a long time for the wounded man to answer but eventually, he did nod. 

“Fine…” His breath was a sigh that disturbed the leaf litter on the moss, and Jaskier seized the chance. They dropped to their knees beside the man, their leather cape pooling in soft red puddles about them. The offered water came first, accompanied with the softest of hands that calmly brushed his white hair from his face. The man flinched a little as if he were not expecting such a gentle touch, before Jaskier supported his tired skull and tilted the water skin to his lips.

After tasting the first few drops of water, his mouth opened wider, eager for more.. This small gesture proved to Jaskier that the man did in fact want to live, and Jaskier felt a strange relief wash over them. They let him drink a few swallows before they rested him back down and moved to study his wound more closely.

“Where are you from…?” They asked, thinking any question more than that at the moment may be too much, but perhaps they could find out what brought this man to be wounded, naked, and in the middle of the forest. 

In answer, the man just bared his teeth again with a soft dismissive growl. Talking just seemed too hard at the moment. He stayed still for Jaskier at least, but kept one golden eye fixed on them. 

Jaskier proceeded to let their hands travel down towards the man’s injury, wary to watch for the signs of causing any pain. They saw him flinch as they neared the wound… That wasn’t good. It could be a sign of infection.

“Well, nameless stranger in the woods… I doubt this news is going to come as a surprise to you that it’s bad, but we’re going to have to take this arrow out. Best case scenario you stay conscious and I can treat you--worst case scenario, you pass out from the pain and I can treat you...” They looked back towards the man’s gaze, not only for the affirmation to continue, but they seemed to be drawn to their strange hue.

The man stared back a moment as if gauging whether or not to trust Jaskier before he nodded He uncurled a little, opening himself up and giving Jaskier easier access to the wound. Jaskier watched him, their curiosity piquing more and more. This man seemed so unbothered by his own nakedness. Even though he was wounded and possibly dying.

Little Red Rider took that invitation and leaned forward to grasp the shaft of the arrow. It’s length had sigils burned into it, and the stranger’s blood bubbled around it in the wound. It was deep and they had to angle themself to pull it straight out. They grasped it firmly, set their jaw and gave a sharp tug at the same time as compressing the skin beneath the shaft with padded bandages. 

The arrow slipped out with a retching sound, trailing drops of blood. The man howled in pain. It was an inhuman sound that reverberated in the trees, echoing back eerily. Moments later, the man fell unconscious, and Jaskier was almost relieved—it had been a miracle that he had lasted that long.

Jaskier quickly set up the supplies to clean the wound, taking advantage of the man’s stillness to dress the wound meticulously; but they did not have everything they needed to finish the job in their satchel. They lifted their head and let out a sharp whistle. A moment passed before they heard Pegasus’ answering snort. It might take a while, but the horse would find a way to them in the ravine, and the rest of their travelling supplies would come then.

“Seems like we may not make it to the town by dark…” Jaskier mused to themself as they cleaned the wound and the surrounding flesh. The bleeding was reduced by the pressure and attention, and they wondered at the webbing of scars across the man’s skin. He had seen many battles, that much was obvious. Long raking scars, short criss-crossing scars… All arranged like a map across his body. 

Jaskier was grateful for a moment that the man was not awake to witness the heat across their cheeks as they had a moment to really look at his form. Dammit, the situation was dire, yes--but the man’s physique was that of a warrior’s, all muscle and sinew. Jaskier chided themself to focus and ripped a long strip of bandages with a little more vigor than was truly necessary.

There were only a few hours until the sun would start to dip down behind the trees. Pegasus had found their way to the ravine, and Jaskier was considering this as good a place as any to wait out the night in the forest. They never really minded sleeping outside, but the forest changed at night (for the worse, the tales would have you believe) and they were always careful to plan to spend the daylight hours in the densest parts of the woods--it would have left them the perfect amount of time to get back to town for deliveries, had they not stumbled upon this man.

When the poultices and bandages were in place and Jaskier was satisfied that they had done all they could for him, they sat back on their haunches to appraise their work. The man’s skin was so pale that it was almost aglow in the gathering dark. It added to his strange, otherworldly beauty, though Jaskier did not have time to stare. They needed to make camp and get themself settled and fed. 

The old oak where they had found the man had sprawling roots that would make a perfect nook to set out bed rolls and start a fire. It had a natural protection from the elements, and the gully was still with no signs of any danger at the moment. They started with the bed roll, laying it out carefully on the surrounding moss. Summer was coming to an end and the ground was getting cooler and cooler every night. It would do the stranger well to be up off the ground before the dew settled on the camp.

Jaskier intentions were sound, but It was a bit harder than they’d bargained to get him onto the roll. With all his muscle mass, he was heavy and dead-weight was always harder to lift, especially being mindful not to jostle him. Soon though, and after much grunting and self-consolation, he was laid out on the roll and Jaskier pulled a blanket up over him keep him warm. Satisfied, Jaskier set to making a fire.

They brushed away the dead leaves and dug down until they hit damp earth. They built something that would burn small but hot. The light from the ensuing flames threw strange shadows against the woods and the stranger’s face. The scene may have been frightening to some one less accustomed to the woods, but Jaskier felt more at home here than in the town most days.

They opened their pack and withdrew some bread, cheese, some dried mince, and apricots and nibbled as they stared at the flame and listened to the woods. The sun crept beneath the horizon, just in time for their watchful supper at fireside. They hoped that all the beasts would give the small camp a pass for the evening. 

Pegasus was falling asleep standing up just on the other side of the fire, a good sign--as the horse was a bit of a coward too, and spooked at the slightest threat of danger. Rather a handy warning system at least.

Jaskier began to hum around their mouthful, swallowing before they sang a few words of a tune;  
“Listen up child, for the wandering tales  
The ones told by huntsmen at ease with their ales  
Beware of the woods, they’ll say, stray not from home  
They’ll mutter to cups they’ve been drinking alone

The trees all have eyes and the rivers have ears  
Watch you as you wander lost, and hark to your fears  
Beware of the witch of the woods, they say, run  
For she’ll boil and stew you up child, for fun

The winds then will whisper all the stories you dread  
While you’re running away, it’s inside of your head  
Beware of the wolf, they’ll say, all slather and bite  
Beware of the things that go bump in the night…”

They descended into a hum again, the words a familiar lullaby-like memory. Songs like these kept most people away from the woods at night, but Jaskier had found that if you listened well enough… They could often keep you just as safe as staying home. They smiled to themself and then got a prickling feeling along the back of their neck. They turned, and realized with a start that the stranger’s golden gaze focussed on them. They brushed a hand over the back of their neck and laughed lightly. 

“Ah… You’re awake.”

The man’s eyes glittered in the fire light. “You should listen better to the song you sing.” His mouth was curled up in a strange smile.

“My Grandmother taught it to me.” Jaskier explained, “Often times while she and I were deep in the forest, she would sing all sorts of songs to me. I learned even then to be wary but not afraid...” Their lips quirked upwards as well to match. “Besides, I’m not a child. Not anymore.” They pulled their red cloak a little tighter around them, feeling a little exposed by the man’s gaze. “Are you hungry?”

That unsettling smile widened a little and the stranger licked his lips.

“Yes.” His nostrils flared a little as if scenting the area. “But not for anything you have at the moment.”

That was an odd answer, wasn’t it? Jaskier looked back towards the fire, willing the shivers down their spine to calm themselves. Perhaps the stranger hadn’t meant anything by it--though it had sounded almost sexual… It was likely he was just referring to a special diet. One that helped him maintain such top physique… Or maybe he was a monk from a far off land who could only eat the fruit of a certain tree tended by the temple… 

They shifted, feeling their gut tell them neither guess was correct.

“Your bandages should last the night--I’ll change them for you in the morning and can have a closer look at it; make sure it’s not infected. Your weakness is likely due to the amount of blood you lost, but the wound should heal cleanly…” The prognosis was a hopeful one, and Jaskier felt some desire to let the stranger know them expected him to live. 

“Hmm.” The stranger sat up gingerly, wincing a little at the pain. He edged a little closer to the fire. “You should have left me.”

“That wouldn’t make me a very good healer… Would it?” Jaskier watched and was satisfied that the bandages would stay as the man moved. “...I’m Jaskier, by the way.” They said suddenly, “And you can call me that… If you wish.” They frowned, realizing it was not the smartest-sounding introduction, but they figured saving someone’s life made up for a lot of lacking conversation, “Do you… Do you have a name?”

“Jaskier.” The name was growled as if the man were tasting the syllables. He was quiet a moment, golden eyes staring. The fire made them look molten. “You can call me Geralt.”

Jaskier let the name sink in--felt as if this was not something many people knew. This was a rare moment, they could tell… They were a particular connoisseur of rare moments. 

“Nice to meet you, Geralt.” They smiled, “I’m glad you’re not dead.” 

“Hmm.” Geralt was quiet a moment, still watching Jaskier. “Do you often wander the woods… All alone?” His eyes were tracing down Jaskier’s neck to their chest. His look was a hungry one. As if he wanted to devour them whole. Jaskier’s pulse quickened and they had to look away again. 

“Not alone. Pegasus is with me, and I have stops along the way at times…” They realized how foolish it would be to admit they spent most of their time alone, but they felt that Geralt had guessed it already. They felt the prickle on the back of their neck again, and this time it tingled all the way down their spine and settled as butterflies in their stomach. “...I travel a lot. To bring things back that people say they need and want... ”

Geralt’s mouth was open just a little as he listened. He pressed his tongue up behind his teeth as he regarded Jaskier as if he were trying to taste Jaskier’s scent. “What about what you want?”

That caused Jaskier to pause. Not many people asked Jaskier what they wanted… they would always come to them asking them to find something or if they had something. Many of the townsfolk simply expected them to deliver because that’s what Little Red Rider had always done. The question made their cheeks flush.

“I… I don’t really want a lot.” They stammered, “Especially not from the village… Maybe that’s why I choose to travel so much.”

“Everyone wants something.” Geralt said. He tipped his head to the side a little. “You dislike those you serve.” It was a statement. Not a question. “Why?”

“I don’t…” Jaskier stopped. They had been about to disagree, but found Geralt’s statement ringing truer than they’d like to admit, “I don’t hate everyone I collect things for…” But… “But sometimes I think that the rumours they tell of me behind my back make it safer for me to not be there all the time.” They admitted quietly, “It’s one thing to have Little Red Rider go pick up your favourite comforts for the dark months; it’s quite another for people to get too close to someone who has the touch of wanderlust to them.” 

Wanderlust. That strange, curse-like symptom that made the townsfolk so wary of outsiders. Better to stay at home and mind one’s business. Jaskier shook off the feeling and looked back at Geralt who was still watching them intently. They shivered again--for a different reason.

“Why are you in the woods?” Jaskier countered, feeling like they still hadn’t learned anything about the pale stranger, “Don’t you own clothes?”

“Clothes?” Geralt asked as if the word were foreign to him. “I’ve… Lost them. When I was shot... I live in the woods. Deeper than here. I didn’t make it home… Obviously.” Despite the mention of his lack of clothes, Geralt made no move to cover his nudity. He seemed to be completely at ease.

Obviously. Jaskier echoed in their head, feeling like there was something that didn’t quite add up, but they didn’t know how to question it. 

“I didn’t know anyone else lived in these woods… but I suppose my Grandmother couldn’t have been the only one.” They laughed halfheartedly, trying to keep the blush on their cheeks from flaring up in the firelight. Geralt didn’t seem to notice, at least. “Do you… live alone?” They tried to make the question sound innocent. It was not, however. Another wolfish grin spread across Geralt’s face and Jaskier was treated to another glimpse of too-sharp teeth. 

“I do.” The words were rumbled out like a growl. He, once again, looked ready to consume Little Red Rider.

Jaskier’s breath caught in their chest and their hands tightened to grip into their leather cape. They tried to laugh it off as before, but it sounded strained, even to them.

“Well you’re extra lucky tonight then, clearly. The woods didn’t want you to perish and sent me to you..” they felt their cheeks burn as they spoke, and they hoped they could blame the fire’s proximity for their flush. “...Though I have to admit you look like you can usually handle yourself pretty well…”

“Usually.” Geralt spat in irritation. “When humans fight like they are meant to and don’t turn to arrows and bolts.” He sounded disgusted. “Most people don’t fight with honor any more.”

Now that was another very strange thing to say: the differentiation of humans would imply that Geralt wasn’t… Jaskier felt the shiver travel up their spine again, and automatically looked to Pegasus. The horse was dozing peacefully in the small warmth of the fire, not a care in the night. 

It must just be the way Geralt talked… having lived alone in the woods for so long.

“Must be lonely… being out here without anyone.” Jaskier remarked, trying to distract from the many thoughts swirling in their head, “I mean… I know it gets awfully solitary at times for myself—take right now, for example; I’ve been away for weeks… long enough to miss even the rude ones a little, you know?” They let their gaze fall on Geralt again, “it’s been a while since I’ve just… sat with someone.”

“Rude ones…” Geralt murmured. “Hmm… You’re always lonely.” Again, it was a statement not a question. 

Rude!

Geralt continued, oblivious to Jaskier’s inner dialogue “It seems that you have been treated as poorly as I’ve been.”

“I mean… Slightly different, perhaps. I’m not getting shot and left naked in the woods…” They stopped, perhaps stepped too far. It didn’t seem likely that Jaskier was going to get the full story from Geralt, but they didn’t want to make light of what had happened to him. “...But maybe I know how lonely it can get… Yes…”

“That surprises me.” Geralt replied softly. Jaskier raised their eyebrows and the fire crackled with a spark. 

“What… that I’m not being left naked in the woods or…?”

The comment made Geralt chuckle. “That you know what loneliness feels like.”

Jaskier sighed, hugging their cape around them. 

“How does your side feel?” They changed the subject, “it’s likely to be a bit stiff after the poultices are done their job… but you’re not dead, so I guess it’s an improvement.”

“Yes… Alive is good.” Geralt kept watching them, and for a moment Jaskier wasn’t sure if he would speak again, until, “I like looking at you. You seem to belong in these woods. You are fair and sweet-” the word was growled, drawn out like sin. “But there is a darkness in you.” His tongue was pressing against the backs of his teeth again. “Something dark and rich.”

Jaskier’s breath caught. The way that Geralt spoke—wasn’t like how others talked to them. He was so focussed on them. Their pulse was hammering, they kept trying to explain it away as their imagination… But it sounded like Geralt was flirting…

“You’ve known me for an hour; consciously, at least. How could you tell I’m sweet, or dark and rich, for that matter?” They tried to hide the blush on their cheeks. It was another moment of intent staring before Geralt spoke. 

“I can smell it.” His tone vibrated through bones, and Jaskier stared back, unable to respond, but unable to look away. The moment was a few breaths long, just the sound of the fire and Pegasus’ dozy breaths. Geralt finally broke the eye contact and looked down at his wound. “It prickles… Is it supposed to?”

It took Jaskier another moment to realize what he was talking about.

“Ah, y-yes. It’s a good sign—means it wants to heal too.” 

Geralt frowned and started to pick at the edges of the wrappings. “How long will it last?”

Had no one ever healed him before?

“The feeling? Maybe a day or two, maybe a week—it depends how fast you heal. In fact, you should lie down and rest again… You shouldn’t put too much stress on it.” they wanted to ask who had shot him, where they’d gone, what the runes on the shaft of the arrow had meant, how he’d ‘forgotten’ his clothes somewhere—but the worry of the wound kept their queries at bay. Something inside them desperately wanted Geralt to recover… The warm creeping feeling that was replacing the chills down their spine. 

Geralt sighed and laid down, stretching out before the fire. He cradled his head in his arms and regarded Jaskier. “You should look at it. It feels… Strange.”

Jaskier’s brow furrowed at the same time the heat turned up on the feeling along their spine. 

“What do you mean, does it hurt?” They asked, already drawing themself up and closer to the bedroll. Perhaps Geralt had shifted something by sitting up… They hoped he hadn’t reopened anything internal. It had looked clean enough—almost as if some of the damage had cauterized, but one couldn’t be sure. 

They saw Geralt’s amber gaze glimmer as they knelt by his side to check the edges of the bandages. Geralt remained blank for a moment. He shifted, sliding his leg out a little. “I have a deep and probably infected arrow wound. Yes. It hurts.”

Jaskier had walked right into that one and found themself pouting. 

“Well can you give me a little something more than ‘strange’, because I’m sure it’s not your regular day to wander through the woods with an arrow in your side either.” Little Red Rider’s bedside manner may leave a few things to be desired, but at least they cared enough to check…They stewed as they laid a hand across the width of the bandage to see if the temperature of his skin had changed around the poultice, the other bracing against Geralt’s shoulder. 

Jaskier’s patient was still and good for a moment before he propped himself up on his elbow. He leaned into Jaskier’s space unapologetically and inhaled deeply. He let out a little hum and stayed put, his nose strangely close to Jaskier’s throat.

“Be careful!” Jaskier warned and turned, discovered how close Geralt was when he bumped against their cheek. “A-ah… you’ll h-hurt yourself…” 

Little Red Rider’s eyes were wide and shone bright blue in the firelight. They was surprisingly close to Geralt, and could feel his breath against their lip. 

“You smell fucking delicious.” Geralt rasped as he let his nose slide along the tendon that was standing out on Jaskier’s neck. His hand moved to their knee to steady himself and squeezed.

Oh… Oh. 

Jaskier hadn’t thought of this; or rather, they had but it had crossed their mind that Geralt would be too injured to act on it… And now they realized they’d gotten unadvisedly close to a potentially very dangerous stranger. But that hand on their knee also felt dangerously nice, and it sent thrills to their belly. 

“...I smell?” Jaskier echoed, and then felt Geralt’s lips follow onto their neck, “Oh… Y-yes, alright…”

“Yes… Everyone has a smell.” Geralt replied. His tongue darted out to taste Jaskier’s skin. “And yours is delicious.” Teeth then, nipped along the trail that Geralt’s tongue had left. Jaskier felt as if they were being savoured and they cried out again. 

Pegasus nickered from across the fire at them and they shook the haze of heady lust from around their head. Oh god, they really, really shouldn’t…

“Just… Oh fuck, just wait a moment, Geralt.” their breathy exclamation as they pulled back and tried to catch Geralt’s face in their hands. they ended up holding him steady, palms firm against either cheek. They panted and caught their breath a moment. 

Geralt leveled his gaze with Jaskier’s, his look no less intense than before. “Wait?” he asked, his head tilting a little. “What for?”

“You’re going to hurt yourself… Fuck, you nearly bled out in the forest a few hours ago and now I’m expected to believe that you’re well enough to ravish me in the woods? You’ll catch a chill and die! Of fever if not by this arrow wound—”

“So help me warm up.” Geralt replied and drew closer still to press his mouth against Jaskier’s. The kiss was a claiming one. All teeth and tongue and growling; and the way that Geralt’s muscles flexed when he pulled Jaskier to him was incredibly convincing. Jaskier groaned and felt themself harden at the inexplicable logic. they panted again, wishing they could keep a clear head, but it was swiftly becoming apparent that was not in their future. 

“M-my… Goodness you’re strong…” They muttered after trying to escape outwards again only to be held fast in the stranger’s arms. Their hands ran down either side of Geralt’s thick neck to his chest. Fuck. 

And with that Little Red Rider’s last thread of self control dissolved—they would check Geralt’s wound… Later. It certainly didn’t seem to be bothering him at the moment anyway.

~

Geralt’s wound was aching. The arrow had gone deep and despite how carefully Jaskier had taken it out, well, arrows weren’t meant to come out. They were made to do damage. He should be resting. Curled up on this sleep roll with the fire to keep his furless skin warm. But the scent of this human was just too delectable.

They smelled of the earth after the rain and of horse and a lingering touch of wildflowers. The humid depths of the woods where time came to a stand still and entered into a liminal space of old magics. A place of worshiping the old gods with blood and prayer and offerings. Jaskier smelled of that deep dark place. They smelled like mate.

It wasn’t unheard of, for a lycanthrope to take a human as a mate. It was simply frowned upon. There had not been any pressure to find himself a mate--and no real desire to rear pups. Still, Geralt was solitary for a reason. 

He pulled Jaskier into his lap, his hands gripping their ass tightly, claiming. He thrust up to let his long, hard cock press against Jaskier’s body. His intent clear. He wasn’t planning on leaving a mating bite, but Jaskier was his for now. Then, hopefully, Geralt would be able to forget this rider’s scent and go back to his solitude.

“Oh… fuck.” This human’s reaction to him was pure wantonness—he had smelled their interest the moment they had pulled back the moss from about the oak roots, and it had been simmering beneath the careful healing touch until now. Fingers dug into Geralt’s shoulders as Jaskier squirmed against him, seeking that angle once more. They were aroused by this—the telltale hardness that slid against Geralt’s belly confirmed.

“You are wearing too many clothes.” Geralt grit out, frustrated. He wanted to bury himself deep within Jaskier. He wanted to consume them. Crawl down inside them and stay there, claiming them as his space. But these blasted clothes that humans wore. He lifted a hand from Jaskier’s ass to grip at their shirt, intent to rip it.

“Ahh, shit—“ The healer swore and hurriedly took the hem from Geralt’s hands to preserve the garment. The compromise was good, though, for their clever hands made quick work of their familiar fastenings, and their shirt and that buttery-soft red cape were soon stripped and discarded an arm’s length away. “Fuck… You’re fucking… Hungry…” Their breath caught and they managed to grind out a word as Geralt’s mouth found new spots along their revealed flesh. 

Jaskier’s skin tasted of sweat and salt. Of travel and leather and it made Geralt crave the flesh beneath. Maybe he would come back and eat this one later. Maybe… Maybe he was just hungry. He was starving really. Weak from blood loss, pain and hunger. But this scent had wriggled its way under his skin and he needed to satiate it before he lost the chance. 

“Pants.” He rasped before his teeth found Jaskier’s trapezius and bit down harder than before.

“Ah, ow… Ye--fuck, fine…” the healer’s near-constant prattle continued in gasps and reactions—spurred on by Geralt’s growl, their fingers fumbled with the ties of their waistband, “Shit—just ohhh, that’s...Yes, right there,” as Geralt’s lips closed over the shell of their ear, “Just… This is very sudden; I don’t usually…” Their excuses died out into a moan and the loose waistband of their breeches slid down. Geralt’s hands gripped Jaskier’s ass again. He used his fingers to spread their cheeks then paused. 

“Should I stop?” A willing partner was always better after all. As Jaskier wriggled in his firm grasp, Geralt was able to appreciate the sight of the healer in his lap. 

Their blue eyes had blown dark and their complexion was ruddy as they panted; their neck and chest were flushed, and they seemed surprised to be so suddenly naked. 

“I-I don’t usually… Do this so quickly…” They stuttered again, taking the moment that Geralt offered to catch their breath. Their eyes darted away over to the fire, and Geralt growled. Of course they wouldn’t want it… Just because Geralt liked their smell didn’t mean the feeling was reciprocated. 

“I just need… Something to ease the way perhaps.” The healer interrupted his train of thought and surprised him, their cheeks blushing prettily in the firelight, “I have something in my pack that will help…” Then Little Red Rider reached in behind themself to stroke the thick cock that was nestled up against the crack of their ass. 

Geralt let out a low soft moan. He slid his finger down over their hole. He paused there, rubbing with gentle pressure, asking for permission. Jaskier wasn’t the first he had fucked like this. Likely wouldn’t be the last. He knew how to get the human ready to take him.

“Ah, fuck, I mean you have to let me get it…” They whined, twisting against the ministrations, but also into them, as if to convince themself as well. “Let me up, you Beast…”

The epithet was a name Geralt had been called before, but never had he heard it said like that—tossed out in a pleasant tone, like a friendly lick, like a promise. His eyes widened in surprise and he loosened his arms to let Jaskier up. If Jaskier didn’t run, he supposed that could confirm the human’s consent.

He watched Jaskier with their satchel, muttering to themself as they rummaged around for something. Geralt wasn’t sure what they were saying. He wasn’t paying attention. He was more focused on the sweet dip of Jaskier’s spine where they crouched down. How the light from the fire cast shadows against their skin, making the curves along their ass look exaggerated. 

Little Red looked like they belonged in the woods and it was making the wolf in Geralt howl. He shoved it down and away. He was a lone wolf...

A happy trill from the healer—they’d found what they had sought, and soon were crawling back over Geralt to retake their seat on his lap. It almost felt as if they hadn’t left at all.

The sharp scents of glass and oily jelly as Jaskier pulled the cork from a small bottle and held it up between them. 

“Do I… Do you want me to do it…?” The question was vague, but Jaskier’s tone was at least confident. In reply, Geralt looked Jaskier in the eyes as he dipped his fingers into the bottle coating them in the slick, strong smelling stuff. He wrinkled his nose at the scent and then pressed his fingers against Jaskier’s hole again. 

“Better?” He asked, nuzzling Jaskier’s neck.

Jaskier managed to get the bottle closed and down amongst the soft bedroll before the shiver overtook them in response. Their hum tickled Geralt’s nose with its vibration. 

“Yesss,” they hissed and pressed backwards onto his hand. “You’re quite big… I’d hate to take such a thing badly…” Jaskier’s hips undulated with the smooth practiced motions of someone having done this before. Maybe that was another reason for all their wanderings. Geralt felt Jaskier’s arms fall around his shoulders, holding him tightly in an embrace of heady scent. 

“How many fingers will you need?” Geralt asked. He kept his nose against Jaskier’s neck, scenting them. The more aroused the human got, the better they smelled. He let his finger slide inside. The gross salve made his finger slip its way in so easily. What a useful thing.

“Oh fuck—yes, like that—three, m-maybe more…” Jaskier dropped their forehead to the top of Geralt’s head. “Oh gods...it’s—“ their mouth opened and stayed open, their breath panting into Geralt’s ear. “So hot, so fast…” their erection had flagged against Geralt’s belly, but the healer was still making many encouraging noises and if the canting of their hips was anything to go on, they were finding it enjoyable. 

“Are you hurt?” Geralt asked for good measure. His finger had stilled within. If Jaskier’s lust smelled good then they must smell amazing when they came. He very much wanted to smell that. To taste it. 

“Ffff…” Jaskier swore in response, “I should be asking you that—not, f-fucking… Getting fucked by—“ their breath caught when Geralt’s finger crooked inside them and they called out. Their hips jerked forwards and their cock twitched against Geralt’s abdomen. “Ah, but I mean, bedside manner—” they gasped, “Is very important too.” They leaned back, exposing the long pale column of their throat to the firelight, “M-more…” they whispered.

“Fuck.” Geralt rasped and slid another finger into Jaskier. He pressed the flat of his tongue against the hollow of Jaskier’s throat and laved it upwards. “How are you so fucking pretty.” He pulled back just so he could watch their face when he angled his fingers inside them..

Jaskier didn’t exactly have a coherent answer for his question, not when Geralt’s fingers had found their mark. They went almost cross-eyed for a moment before their eyes slid shut with a groan. 

“Oh, dammit…” They choked after a second, “That’s good, just like…” the babble was still constant, even if it didn’t mean anything, “Fuck…” The healer’s cock had twitched again, leaking a patch against Geralt’s bare skin below his bandages. They were relaxing more, and getting harder as Geralt continued. 

Geralt worked them a little longer before adding another finger. He gave Jaskier a biting kiss to chase away the sting of the stretch. “Tell me when you’re ready.” He said, pressing in deeply, causing Jaskier to exclaim again. He was so fucking hard. It was getting more and more dificult to keep himself from just fucking up into them, claiming them.

The healer required patience, but they made it worth it. The noises they made as Geralt’s fingers opened them--the oil had them dripping over him, and they slid across the tops of his thighs as they wriggled backwards onto his fingers. 

Little Red’s sweet cheeks were pink with blush and the tips of their eyelashes glowed in the firelight. A light sheen had broken out on their chest and for a moment, framed in soft golden firelight, they looked a picture of an angel.

And then they moaned and swore.

“Fuck, Geralt… I want—I want that big cock of yours, so bad… Fuck, I can feel it,” They ground downwards onto Geralt’s erection and backwards onto his tightly squeezed digits. “Gods, would you give it to me…”

Well, when they asked so sweetly…

Geralt shifted them so he could press Jaskier down against the bed roll. He removed his fingers and wiped the remaining oil onto his cock and paused. The orange hues from the fire shone against Jaskier’s face making their right eye shine in the golden light. But the moon had risen enough by now to also cast its silvery glow around the forest. Its light caught on Jaskier’s lashes and lit their left eye with luminous blue.

“By the Moon…” Geralt swore in wonder. He leaned down, bracing himself on one arm to kiss Jaskier hard as he used his other hand to guide his cock to their hole. He started to press inside, tortuously slow and--oh Moon, it was so hot and wet and tight. So fucking good. “Jaskier-” He moaned as he slid in to the hilt.

Jaskier fit underneath him as if it was their job to fold their long legs around the angle of his chest and shoulders; as if being bent in half and filled to the brim was something one just did for a strange wounded traveller they found in the woods. The human let out a long groan that was accompanied by the feeling of their fingers finding purchase along the bulk of Geralt’s biceps and underscored by a sleepy horse snorting for them to keep it down. 

“Ah… Fuck, Geralt.” They huffed after a few moments of feeling him fully inside, “...Bigger than I thought.”

“Tighter than I thought.” Geralt grit out. He was panting against Jaskier’s neck with the effort to not simply come right then and there. This human was just so sweet and he wanted to draw it out longer. To really enjoy taking them apart. “Feels so good-”

“Uh huh,” Jaskier agreed with a gulp, “Give me a second…” Their fingers had tightened on Geralt’s arm as they adjusted, the furrow on their brow was one of concentration. Their cock twitched between both of their bellies, and the resulting shiver that passed through Jaskier reverberated around Geralt’s cock as well. “Ahaa…” the healer sang, “Yes… Yes, you can...You can move.”

Geralt’s teeth bit down posessively on the patch of skin that smelled the most of Jaskier on their neck. He rolled his hips back only to slam forward. Jaskier’s body rocked underneath him, their cry a mix of a sweet sigh and a desperate gasp. Geralt moaned against Jaskier’s skin, his fingers tightening on his hips before doing it again.

Jaskier’s ankles crossed behind Geralt’s head, tightening the grip on his cock as their legs pressed tighter together. Pinned beneath Geralt like this, one would have thought there would be no purchase, but Little Red Rider found every inch. Their fingers sought Geralt’s hair and wound themselves in, their back rounded to press them upwards as much as they could, their toes curled in the air as Geralt sank into their ass with deep thrusts. 

“Ah—ah, Geralt…” They gasped, “It’s good… Go… Go as hard as you—”

Geralt let go of Jaskier’s neck and licked the indented mark he had left. He hoped it would bruise. That it would leave evidence behind that he had placed it there. That Jaskier would wake in the morning and think that Geralt was more than a fever dream. He had permission to let go. But there was still hesitation there. There was still something in him holding back the beast within. 

This human didn’t know what Geralt was. What if he hurt them? He sped up, fucking them harder and faster. It was making them pant with the effort. But he didn’t let go. Not completely. 

“Keep making those sweet sounds for me.” He ground out; yes, yes the ones that make them sound like a wounded animal. The sounds that were making his inner wolf sing.

The beasts of the forest knew better than to intrude when Jaskier’s cries became more insistent at Geralt’s request. It was as if the forest trembled along with them--and indeed their thighs had begun a tremor at the point where Geralt had bent them in half. The flush of their cheeks deepened. 

“Ah-haa—“They choked out, and Geralt felt them squeeze around his cock, even at this pace, “Fuck—I’m… I’m g-going to…”

“Fuck yes.” Geralt growled, slipping a little and letting himself fuck Jaskier a little harder. “Come for me Jaskier. I want to see it.” He pulled back a little so he could get his free hand between them so he could stroke Jaskier in time with his thrusts.

Little Red Rider let out a gasp at the request—no, the command, and their eyes rolled back when Geralt palmed the length of their cock. They were slick and hard, balls drawn up tight towards their shaft. They would not last much longer. 

When they came, it was with a stuttering breath, the forest and the night collectively silent to be able to commit each gasp to memory. And then it felt like time slammed back into place and Geralt’s following thrust drew out a long, deep groan. Jaskier arched back as much as they could, their skull pressing into the mossy loam beneath the bedroll. A string of cum shot upwards across their chest and over Geralt’s fingers, flooding the night air with the thick smell of sex. Jaskier’s body continued to tremble and clench. 

“Jaskier” Geralt drew their name out, moaning it like a prayer. As if Jaskier’s name was the only thing worth worshiping and in that moment it was. He wasn’t far behind the healer’s orgasm, coming deep inside, marking them with his scent. He pressed his forehead against theirs as he came down. With every breath, the sharp pain in his side got worse and he remembered how he had been found in the first place. “Fuck-.”

Jaskier was still pressed beneath him, panting with the effort as well. Their fingers tightened on Geralt’s arms again when he shifted, as if the healer could tell something was wrong. 

“Fuck…” Jaskier echoed, “That was...I—“ they groaned and held their breath as the small movements overwhelmed them. Everything felt very sensitive at the moment. “Fuck, we shouldn’t have… You’re hurt.” So they’d noticed. 

A wave of dizziness came over Geralt and he closed his eyes, pulling his cock out slowly. He didn’t need to touch the wound to know that he was bleeding. He could smell it. “I just need… To lay down…”

“Shit…” He heard Jaskier swear and felt them scramble out from underneath him, helping him gently back down to the bedroll before retrieving their pack from across the camp with a clanking of its contents. There was a pressure at his side as he was aware of the healer cursing small admonishing phrases at themself; and the sharp sterile smell of clear alcohol laced through the heavy scent of forest and fucking. But the pain and the post-orgasmic haze was calling him to a much deeper place, and Geralt surrendered to it, the smell of Jaskier filling his senses as he let the darkness swell up to take him again. 

~

Stupid  
Stupid  
Stupid…

“Yes, I even knew it was stupid…” Jaskier muttered to themself, or Pegasus (if they were even awake) as they winced at the state of the wound—it had reopened underneath the bandages and had bled through the poultice. They’d have to pack another once they’d stemmed the bleeding again. 

They checked to make sure Geralt was still breathing (he was) and lifted the knot of bandages they were applying pressure with. Almost. 

Gods, they could have killed him. All for the sake of a fuck—a good fuck—but that wasn’t the point! They grit their teeth and berated themself. They’d never make a good healer if they couldn’t keep their job first and foremost. Maybe the townsfolk were right about them. Maybe they were twisted, unnatural… This lust (wander and otherwise) of theirs was dangerous. They grimaced again and tried to shove the thoughts from their mind. 

Who were they trying to fool? They were naked, thighs still shaking from an orgasm and they were sure that cum was dripping down the back of their leg...and they thought they could save Geralt’s life? 

Fuck, they were a mess. 

They focused on redressing the wound, another fresh poultice packed and held neatly in place. They tucked the blanket back over Geralt and fished their breeches up from the forest floor. They cleaned themself up as best they could and dressed gingerly—many things were sore—before they stoked the fire, sat back down on the carpet of moss, and pulled the long red cloak over themself. They would sit up and watch the fire (and Geralt) the night. 

And they’d try not to think about how good that fuck had felt and how guilty they felt for giving in. Their eyelids drooped as they watched the flames dance in the darkness. They had to figure out what to do. They sighed and closed their eyes for just a moment. 

Even though they had planned to stay awake, the light of sunrise glanced off of Jaskier’s eyelids, rousing them the next morning. They opened their eyes and wiped away the dew that had gathered on their lashes. This was so like many mornings for them. Waking in the forest after a night curled up on the leaf litter and moss. But this morning something was different. Their body felt a bit stiff with the sweet ache of being fucked the night before.  
Oh. Right.

Jaskier’s eyes shot open and they sat upright to look about their little hastily-made camp. The blanket from their sleep roll had been draped over them on top of their red cape. The fire had burned down to embers. Their sleeping roll lay on the other side of the smoldering ashes empty. Geralt was gone. There was no trace of him having been there save for the empty bedroll, the dried cum on the backs of Jaskier’s thighs, and the purpling bruise of the bite they’d received from his wolf-like teeth.


	2. Beware Mobs in the Marketplace

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They turned, straddling Geralt in the opposite direction, their ass nestling against that lovely downy hair they’d pet on Geralt’s chest, and finally got a good look at what they’d taken in the woods. 
> 
> Gods, Geralt was thick.
> 
> The smutty Faery Tale continues, out of the woods and into the fire. Something has followed Little Red Rider home from the forest, and the little village isn’t quite prepared for the Big White Wolf.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AN: Hello again from this Toasty Loaf! If you are keeping score, you’ll have noted we’re posting on Tuesdays until the chapters we’ve written have concluded, but we’d love to hear what you’re thinking of this alternate universe so far! Leave us a little comment to snuggle up to and we’ll see you next week for more!

Little Red Rider had been back in the picturesque mountain village for a mere two days before they found themselves wistful for the woods again. They were staring out of their cottage window, hoping to be calmed by the sight of the mountain slopes and the thick forest green. They got up from their workbench where the herbs they were processing were laid out and drying when instead, they caught sight of a group of townsfolk making their way up the path. They wiped their hands on a cloth and pushed their shirtsleeves back up over their elbows. They hoped these visitors weren’t going to make anything difficult. 

“Red Rider!” They heard their voices call through the cloudy glass, “Red Rider, let us come in!”

They sighed. Not by the hair on my little pert bottom… They thought but did not say, and went out to meet them. 

“Hullo,” They called, halting the advance on their home as they slung their namesake red cloak over their shoulders, “You looking for me?”

“We saw you came back from your little adventure.” The tallest of the group, one Colby Belcher said as he raised his chin, “Wanted to see if you brought us a little present.” Colby was the butcher’s son. Only a year older than Jaskier, but he had been a thorn in Jaskier’s side their whole life.

“Yeah. A treat or something.” Piped up Robbert Stone. He had taken over his father’s job as a farrier when a horse had kicked the man in the chest a few years back. Stone Sr. had never been the same. Jaskier themself had brought the man back to health. But the bones hadn’t set properly, and Jaskier had a feeling Robbert Stone the younger had never really forgiven them for that. 

“I’ve told you before…” Jaskier sighed, holding their ground on their front step. They crossed their arms across their chest, “I don’t bring back ‘extras.’ If there’s something you want, I can certainly find it on my next outwards trek—“

“Yeah, but that wouldn’t be today.” Colby interrupted. “And we heard you brought back plenty of that golden-honey mead for the tavern. Figured you could part with a bit of that.”

Robbert's grin was as crooked as his teeth. “You know we could use some good mead. Ma says snow’s coming tonight. It will keep us warm.”

Jaskier sighed. “It wasn’t mead, it was whiskey—and no, I didn’t bring back plenty in order to give you lot a free sample. Go buy it at the tavern like the rest of us.” They turned, intending to go back inside.

The third of the group piped up, and Jaskier struggled to place him--they thought they recognized him from work on the farm with the Ashleighs, but they weren’t sure. 

“You wouldn’t have given it all to the tavern without keeping any for yourself, Buttercup. That would be stupid.” 

Jaskier’s expression darkened. 

“Don’t call me that…” They huffed quietly, feeling like this really wasn’t going to go as they’d hoped. Robbert and Colby exchanged a glance. 

“Whiskey is even better for keeping warm than Mead is... Buttercup.” Robbert said gruffly, and he chuckled cruelly at Jaskier’s childhood nickname.

“It would be greedy of you not to share with us. Wouldn’t it?” Colby added, directing the last of the sentence to the other two bullies. Colby moved into Jaskier’s space, “What do you say Jaskier? We will take some whiskey and be on our way.” He took advantage of his new closeness and smoothed some wrinkles out of the red cape.

Jaskier bristled at the touch. If it came down to a fair fight, they were sure they could take Colby on—even though he was tall, Jaskier was faster—always had been. And that’s why Jaskier never saw Colby alone when the butcher’s son wanted something from them. 

“I don’t have any, Colby.” Jaskier said icily, “So you should probably just be on your way.”

Colby chuckled, not moving his hand from their cloak. “Jaskier, you and I both know that you are going to turn around and head back into that little shack of yours and bring us some whiskey.” the ‘or’ hung in the air.

‘Or we will beat you up.’ ‘Or we will trample the last of your pumpkins and squash.’ ‘Or we will destroy something on your property.’ It was always violence with these three. 

“I don’t have any—“

“Then what about something else?” The other one called from where he stood with Robbert, only a couple steps away, “What else have you got for us, Buttercup?” 

Jaskier decided that they disliked him the most of the lot--and not just because of the name he kept calling them--his words also fuelled the hand on their shoulder to dig their fingers in more painfully. They grit their teeth and fought from flinching. 

Jaskier’s eyes flashed with something—something that they’d heard in the woods, and they growled. 

“Fuck off.” 

It wasn’t very effective. 

Colby sneered at them. “You know, my sister has been admiring this cloak. I think I’ll take it instead. Specially if Robbert’s Mum is saying it'll snow.” He lashed out, pushing his hand up against Jaskier’s chest to pin them against the side of their house. The other two flanked them almost immediately, Robbert wrenched one of their arms around as Colby tore at the cape’s ties, catching Jaskier’s jaw with his elbow a couple of times quite on purpose. The other one just watched, grinning, and kept a long eye out for any other who might be approaching. The cowardly bastard. 

Jaskier struggled, managing a couple of decent kicks—but ultimately the retaliation of the swift Robbert Stone piledriver-to-the-gut hurt just as much as they’d remembered it. Maybe more. The three left them on the ground trying to pull air into their lungs after having been winded. The bullies laughed and Colby left with their red cloak.

Jaskier got themself up when they were able to draw a good breath again. Hatred burned in them and for a few moments all they could do was think of revenge and how they could get their grandmother’s cloak back. A cool breeze along their cheek and through their hair pulled their thoughts from the bullies though. If Robbert’s mother was right, if snow was coming tonight, they had work to do.

In the distance beyond the trees the sky looked dark and ominous. They would have to bring in the last of the harvest from their garden and make sure the chickens were secure among other things.

The day continued to get chillier; so much so that Jaskier could see their breath in their cottage by the time they got in to make a fire for the evening. They rubbed their hands over the fresh flame to unfreeze them and set about pulling out the extra wools and blankets for their bed. As a few small flakes began to drift by outside, they hung some of the blankets over the windows like tapestries. They could almost imagine the designs on them moving to tell the stories of the woodland creatures that adorned them, and it brought a smile to their face. It was soon cozy inside, with all things where they needed to be.

Save for that one really shitty thing, Jaskier thought as they rubbed a hand over their tender stomach and pulled out a bottle of whiskey from the cupboard under the sink, today would have been a good day. 

~

Snow started to fall early into the morning. Large fluffy puffs from the sky to collect wet and sticky on the ground. The snow fall made everything quiet and still, muffling sounds and distorting spaces in between objects. It made the night darker than usual. The light from lanterns in the village doing little to cut through the night.

The Wolf was silent as it slipped through the streets. It was almost invisible. Its white coat blended into the snow fall as if it had been born of the cold. Only its yellow eyes and black mouth gave it away as it stalked through the streets.

One might think that hunting during snow fall would be harder. Sounds didn’t carry, taking away one of the wolf’s senses, but tonight, he didn’t need his hearing. He just needed his smell and his sight.

The three bullies hadn’t noticed the pair of amber eyes that spied them from the edge of the woods earlier that day. The eyes that watched them as they yanked a red cloak from their victim and returned laughing to town. They didn’t notice the wolf who scented them and committed their faces to memory.

There was only one person the Wolf was after tonight though. The one who pushed, tore at, and stole the red garment from Jaskier’s shoulders. The scent of Jaskier was easy to track. That sweet smell had been committed to memory. A perfume that the Wolf couldn’t quite shake. It sat at the back of his throat, choking him and left him begging for more.

The man left the tavern late, stupid with drink. He stumbled into the night unknowing of his fate. The Wolf knew that he would be here. He had smelled him there, followed his tracks. He followed him now. The Man wore Jaskier’s cloak like it was a trophy. As if it took skill to steal. Three against one. It made the Wolf snarl. 

He hated this man. This man who hurt for no reason. Who hated for no reason. This man who needed others to back him up to feel strong. This was no man. He was a coward who let out a shout when he laid eyes on the Wolf as he put his cock away after shaking it off from a piss.

He put his hands out in front of him as if that would dissuade the Wolf from his hunt. He wished he could use words in this form. To tell this human why he was about to die but he supposed it was for the best. Men like this didn’t deserve explanations. 

His bones snapped and broke under the Wolf’s jaws. The man screamed with the pain of it. The Wolf did not stop. He tore at the front of him, ripping his stomach to let his intestines spill steaming and red onto the snow. He went for the throat next, tearing it out for good measure. The blood was coppery and rich on the Wolf’s tongue but he was not here to eat. No. He was here to leave a message. This would be no random animal attack. 

The wolf shifted, bones popping and cracking as his form rippled and changed. It was such sweet agony, the change. When long dangerous claws were fingers once more and teeth had shortened to a more human length, The Wolf removed the red cloak from the shoulders of his victim. He took it careful not to get any blood on it and set it aside, his human feet leaving prints of blood in the snow.

The change back was just as divine and the Wolf shook himself out as the last ripples shivered down his spine. He took his victim’s ankle into his jaws and dragged him to the centre of town. Blood poured from the various wounds leaving a trail of red and gore behind them. The body was left in an unceremonious heap and the Wolf returned to the cloak. He took time to lay there in the gathering snow to lick his paws and maw clean before picking the cape up with surprising gentleness.

He left it on the front stoop of his Mate’s house, beneath the awning to keep it dry.

~ 

The screams in the morning market had echoed through the mountain surround, making them blend together with the sobbing and the chatter, the weeping, the whispers. 

Jaskier sat at the back of the town hall, thinking about the red cloak that they had left at home with shaky fingers after having heard the news of the attack. It had been grisly. It had been horrifying. And part of Jaskier had caught the other part thinking that it had been bloody well deserved. 

They kept that part really quiet for the time being though as another concerned citizen stepped up to the stand.

“—was a purposeful attack! And you know the animals that frequent the woods around here! None would have done that, even if you were to blame a rabid beast. This level of brutality—“

“—a monster!”

“—from across the mountains!”

“Enough!” The town councillor called for order, and the room quietened for the moment. “There is no proof to support any sort of beast needing more mythos than a hungry wolf from the mountains—which winter drives down in the leanest of time, this is known—“

The hall erupted again,

“But what of my children—?”

“Who would protect us from another attack?”

“But it’s not the leanest of times, Councillor Boe…”

Jaskier’s ears perked up at the voice, recognizing the third man who had come to their cottage with Colby and Robbert. He had stepped up to the stand. 

“In fact, it’s the end of harvest, most everything’s been bountiful. I don’t think it was a wolf. And I don’t think most of the people here think it was a wolf, Councillor Boe.”

The councillor frowned, crossing her arms. “And what exactly do you think did this, Allan?” She asked in a no-nonsense tone. One that spoke of how grave this attack had been and of how much she wanted to make sure that no wild stories spread through the town.

“I think it’s obvious.” Allan, Allan Selkirk—that was his name—paused for dramatic effect, and the town hall seemed to hold their breath waiting for the ‘obvious’ explanation, “It was a beast, summoned by the will of a witch. Why else would it attack someone by the outskirts of town and then drag their quarry all the way into the market? A ritual drawn in blood!”

Jaskier frowned from the back. That didn’t make any more sense than a rabid beast—less, actually, if one knew what witches did to protect stupid people in small remote villages like this—but the hall erupted again with hearsay and reactions to the news that the beast might have magical properties. 

Those claims made the townspeople erupt into a cacophony of murmurs and loud demands for justice. Councillor Boe let them have their rage and noise for just a moment before lifting both hands. She raised her tone to carry over the crowd. 

“Quiet!” Once they had been reduced to quiet whispers, Councillor Boe turned to Allan again. “What evidence do you have that would prove such a thing?”

“We all know the tales of the woods—and everyone keeps quiet about it, but I’ve seen things—Ada Grullston, you still perform a spring sacrifice to appease the witch of the woods with a lamb from your flock every year,” Allan pointed and the hall turned to look at Ada, “Feore Fjonn, you’ve had that artifice that’s supposed to keep crows away—woven with some sort of charm in an ancient tongue; and Jaskier Rider,” the hall turned to look at them, and they found themself under the weight of their gazes, “you travel in and out all the time—who’s to say you’re not the one to anger her?” Allan sneered. “Suffice it to say—you all believe there’s a witch… and witches can be offended by the smallest, pettiest thing, and this is the result. I say we find the source and burn it down.”

“That’s a load of horse-shit.” Jaskier said, unwilling to play a silent role in Allan’s narrative. “There’s no witch in the woods… they don’t exist like some twisted creature out of Faery-tale and you all know that—what you believe—“

“Don’t tell us what we gotta believe, Red Rider—“

“—and if you were the one then of course you’d be trying to tell us it didn’t exist—“

“—the witch!”

“Quiet!” Councillor Boe said again, letting her voice carry above the other voices. “I will not let this turn into a witch-hunt without solid evidence and right now all we have is a handful of old wives tales and fear. We will handle this as we do anything else of this nature. We will conduct an investigation and come to a rational conclusion. IF there is a witch involved, we will deal with the situation accordingly. Now. We need to talk about safety measures to put in place.”

Jaskier’s expression darkened, once someone said the words ‘witch hunt’—even in the way of denying one—they were not often undone. They could feel the fear of mania whispering through the room, and they suddenly felt the need to get some fresh air. 

The town meeting concluded with rules of a curfew and a minimum group number to walk after certain hours and out of town, and the grim task of cleaning the marketplace. There would be those scrubbing the worst of the guts from the public spaces, but the long red trail of blood from the woods by the tavern road to the center of town would prove difficult to erase. 

Jaskier checked the hour, they should have enough time before the new curfew to knock back a pint and head home before needing someone to accompany them. 

They ached to be alone, really, but the rail of the tavern ‘the Lyrical Swan’ would have to do. 

The barkeep looked up as Jaskier entered the small tavern. He offered a smile and waved them over. They had a good standing relationship. Josef had known Jaskier’s grandmother and, like most of the people Jaskier’s age, had seen them grow up. Their friendship only cemented further when Jaskier started to help with bringing in stocks of various liquor and more exotic brews. Red Rider never drank or ate at the Lyrical Swan at full price.

“Nasty business this.” Josef said as Jaskier sat down at the tavern’s bar. “Downright spooky… It's good though that they are looking into things. Not jumping to conclusions and looking for what really happened and all.”

“You think they aren’t jumping to conclusions?” Jaskier asked, bewildered, and watched Josef pull them a pint from the keg atop the bar. “Honestly, they used the term ‘witch hunt.’ The town hall had people saying ‘burn it’ during the meeting.” They sighed and lowered their chin to their hands. “And the thing is now that he’s dead, we’re going to pretend that Colby Belcher was any kind of decent person and not necessarily some drunken ass who often left bone shards in his butcher’s cuts.” They grumbled. 

“I know he had a penchant for pushing you around.” Josef told Jaskier with a fond tone. He set the brew in front of them. “You ask me, there is no witch in the woods and they’ll find nothing to burn. Town’s folk just upset cause it was a downright messy attack.” He paused to regard Jaskier. “You wanting some food with that?”

“No, just this… I’ll be headed back home before it has a chance to get dark.” They took the  
first sip and sighed with the small relief, “I’m wondering if I ought to be trying to embark on my next gathering trek sooner rather than later, in case the town is going to get more paranoid.” They mused. 

Josef nodded. “How many more trips do you reckon you can make before winter? That was an early snow but it’s already melting.” He was setting to put a few things into a basket as he spoke.

“One or two—depending how early I leave and how long away I stay.” Saying it out loud even made them feel better, the thought of staying here and the long winter ahead was a daunting thought. They could always just go and stay away until spring… They’d done it once before. 

Magdelanne, the dark haired proprietor of the tavern passed in behind Josef. 

“Oh, you’re planning to go again, Little Red?” She overheard, “That whiskey you brought’ll be good and all, but now I’m realizing our stock of ginger wine won’t be enough—and it’s a Yuletide favourite…”

Jaskier chatted a while longer with Magdelanne and Josef as they finished off the bittersweet draught. The Lyrical Swan was a little quieter than normal, understandably so, and Jaskier promised to return before their next excursion out (soon, soon) to double check their order and to sing a few songs with their lute. 

They passed out into the fading light of gathering evening, the path away and towards the town stretching out with a span of forest growing in between. 

Jaskier felt a prickle at the base of their spine. 

That had been where Colby had been attacked the night before, based on the gruesome trail of blood. They shivered and pulled their scarf closer, wishing they’d brought their cloak at the same time as shuddering at the thought of the connection with Colby’s grisly death. 

The Wolf was almost camouflaged by the mounds of melting snow. It was the movement of lifting its head that caught Jaskier’s eyes. The Wolf sat stark white among the pines, watching Jaskier with wild amber eyes. Still as a statue, save for the tip of its fluffy tail, moving absently. 

Jaskier’s breath caught. It was a very large Wolf, and it made Jaskier realize how very little they had to ward off an attack. The tremble of their limbs at the sight of it was strange, it didn’t quite feel like fear… But it froze them in place all the same. 

The Wolf stood, still staring at Jaskier and took two steps forwards. The door to the tavern opened and Josef called Jaskier over. 

“Jaskier! Magdelanne had an extra loaf of Rye. Take it home for dinner.”

At the disturbance, the wolf darted between the trees and disappeared into the woods as if it had never been there at all. Josef walked up to Jaskier with a small frown. “Are you alright? You look spooked.”

“I—“ Jaskier found themself reluctant to talk about the wolf, “I think I just have my mind playing tricks on me. Too many suggestions for my imagination to make something out of.” They explained and thanked Josef for the bread, waving off the other’s offer to accompany them home. 

They were rattled and kept their eyes trained on the forest the whole walk home, but the wolf did not appear again. 

They had just managed to convince themself that they had imagined it—due to the events of the night before, the unsettling town hall and the light buzz from the brew. They unlocked their door with a relieved sigh. 

It was when they were inside their home with the door locked once more that Jaskier realized something was off. There was a fire burning in the fireplace. When they had left, it was down to embers. Easy to stoke up into the lively flames it was now, but they had not made that fire. They had missed the smoke coming from the chimney because they had focussed so fixedly on the tree line.

“Hello?” Jaskier called, their voice sounding smaller to them than they wanted. They started to edge into their home.

Geralt was stretched out, belly down on their bed, naked as ever. One thigh was raised making the sprawl look more inviting than perhaps Geralt intended… Or maybe he did intend it to look sultry. He raised his head from where it had been resting on his arms and fixed Jaskier with his yellow stare. 

“Hello Jaskier.”

“G-Geralt?” Jaskier stammered, “How did you-” get in here, “Why did you-” leave without saying goodbye, “Where have you been?” Of all the questions, the last one managed to make it to the end; but they felt awfully distracted by the sight that pale flesh after they’d spent the last couple of days trying to remember all the details they could. They wondered if Geralt could smell what they’d been up to in that bed while they’d been busy… Trying to remember…

“I’m here now.” Geralt told Jaskier, flexed as he drew himself up and off the bed to enter Jaskier’s personal space. He inhaled deeply, nose flaring as he took in their scent. “You smell nervous. Are you alright?” Geralt’s tone was one of concern.

Jaskier backed up against the wall by the door. Geralt was… Large and naked. And very much alive, and apparently healed, and… Naked. Jaskier tried to shake their head to clear their thoughts. 

“Yes… This is just very unexpected, Geralt! You disappeared!”

“I... “ Geralt looked away, a hint of regret clouding his features, “Didn't know you’d have wanted me to stay…” He looked back up, his eyes unsure, “Was I wrong?”

“Geralt… Do you usually… Just leave after something like that?”

Geralt was silent a moment, seemingly digesting the situation. “I… Don’t usually do… Things… like that.” He replied slowly.

Jaskier’s cheeks flushed and they huffed as they exhaled. Geralt’s proximity was starting to have quite an effect on them. That strange warm prickle at the base of their spine was back. 

“So… What part of it made you think I wanted you to leave?”

Geralt let his nose slide along Jaskier’s jawline slowly, breathing them in again. “I don’t know…” He admitted.

“H-how did you find me…?” Jaskier asked, their skin prickling from the contact. “Have you… healed?” 

Geralt touched his side. There was a fresh pink scar there now. A small reminder that Jaskier had saved him.

“I’m fine… This was the closest village from where you were so I assumed I’d find you here.”

Jaskier’s hand joined his over the scar. It had closed up well, considering it had been only a few days… They sucked in a breath and looked back up at Geralt to find him watching them again. They squared their jaw, they had some things they wanted to say. 

“I didn’t want you to disappear, Geralt. And don’t get me wrong… I don’t usually do that—while I’m healing someone, at any rate—either. There’s… Something about you,” The warm feeling in their stomach fluttered as they brought their hand up to stroke the downy hair along his chest, “Made me want to prove to you that I could help you… That I can help you…” 

“I owe you my life.” Geralt reminded them, a soft breath. A warm sentiment, and Jaskier could recognise when someone said something for their benefit. Geralt’s answer had been indirect, but this... They had helped him. Jaskier’s lips quirked into a hesitant smile. And then there was a shift in the warmth contained within the cottage and Geralt’s mouth was on Jaskier’s neck, kissing and nipping over the fading bruises from his bite. Jaskier gasped at the sudden switch.

“I couldn’t stop thinking about your smell.” Geralt intoned into their neck.

“Ah… And I couldn’t stop thinking y-your cock-” They had meant it to be a flippant response to yet another absurdity, but their breathy reply had carried too much truth, “And yet, here we are…” Jaskier’s hands skimmed upwards to wind around Geralt’s neck and maneuvered his lips towards their own, kissing the strange man quiet with a sweet taste of their lips. 

Geralt moaned low and deep, pulling Jaskier to his body tightly. It was as if the will that held him back had crumbled with Jaskier’s eagerness. The first few kisses quickly became possessive and punctuated with teeth that claimed pointedly ‘mine’.

Geralt’s hands found Jaskier’s rear and he lifted them into his arms to press their back against the door to the small cottage. A growl instead of a moan this time and Geralt pulled back just enough to lick a long swipe up the column of Jaskier’s neck. 

“You feel so good.”

“Ahh…” Jaskier found themself marvelling again at how strong Geralt was—almost inhumanly so. Jaskier was not small. It made them squirm (ineffectively) between the door and the solid form holding them there. “Is that why you came back…?” They asked between hot breaths. Sharp incisors nipped at the lobe of Jaskier’s ear. Licked at the skin just behind. 

“Yes…” Geralt replied simply. He brought up one hand to run his fingers through their hair, tipping Little Red’s head back and exposed their throat, “I didn’t think I would long to keep you as much as I do.”

Jaskier’s breath caught. Being held in place so made their pulse hammer in their ears and prickled their arousal—they were still completely clothed and Geralt was naked as the day he was born, his bulk pressing between their legs to hold them to the wall. They moaned as they tried to arch their back in towards some friction. 

“You couldn’t stop thinking about my cock hmm?” Geralt asked next, pressing it hard and persistent against his lover with a slow grinding of his hips. Jaskier’s lips parted with a delighted breath as Geralt nipped all along their jaw and the corners of their blushing lips before pulling them into another full wet kiss.

Jaskier hummed and wriggled their ass as best they could against Geralt’s erection. Honestly, they hadn’t thought they’d get a second chance to experience it, and had resigned to committing it to memory--perhaps by way of an ode to a magnificent cock. And how they couldn’t believe their luck, so solidly confirmed against them; they had felt so guilty about re-injuring Geralt the last time.

“Fuck…” They swore when their lips parted again, “Are you going to let me down anytime soon so I can do something about… This?” They circled their hips sensually against Geralt.

Geralt hummed, nosing along Jaskier’s neck a little before stepping back from the wall. He made no move to let Jaskier down though, and carried them over to their bed instead. Geralt laid them out and started pulling at their clothing.

“You are always wearing too much.”

“And you are never wearing anything…” Jaskier had to try to act quickly before they got overwhelmed again. They used all the strength and leverage they had to flip themself out from underneath Geralt. They grunted with the effort and perched atop him proudly. From there, they undid the clasps of their doublet and peeled it off—their undershirt was unlaced already and had turned translucent in the firelight. Geralt’s palms ran up Jaskier’s thighs.

“Just look at you.” He breathed as his hands settled around Jaskier’s waist. The fire light only made his eyes look more gold despite being dark with lust. “You make the Moon jealous.” 

Jaskier flushed at the compliment and they braced their hands on Geralt’s strong chest pressing their backside, still clothed, against Geralt’s cock. The material was smooth, but provided a rougher friction than their bare arse would have. They dragged out the undulation long and slow, their gaze never leaving his. Geralt’s fingers caught under Jaskier’s undershirt and he sat up to pull it off of them. The offending fabric was tossed to the floor.

Geralt had quickly figured out the buttons on their breeches, loosened them enough to be guided down as his large hands slid to fill their grasp with the curve of their ass. He tipped Jaskier in towards him so there was more room to press the garment down their thighs.

It was a little clumsy but it only brought their chests closer as Jaskier twisted and squirmed to remove them completely, and Geralt would never begrudge that. One hand combed through Jaskier’s hair again as the other slipped down between their ass cheeks to slide and press against their hole. 

“Is this what you were missing?”

Jaskier bit their lip and uttered a strangled moan. The thought of being filled again like they had been in the woods—without the fear of riding Geralt too hard this time made their body tremble with anticipation. Fuck, it felt good to be handled by this man…

“I want you inside of me, yes… but first I want to taste this,” They reached behind themself and ran their fingertips lightly over Geralt’s hardness, “I’d like to see it...close up…” Their smile glinted in the light as they peered down at Geralt and they ran the tip of their tongue across their lip. 

For a moment, Geralt looked at the Red Rider with a look that could only be described as confused. As if Jaskier had just grown two more heads. His fingers rubbed along Jaskier’s hole a few more times before he was nodding. 

“Yes. I want that.” 

Jaskier made another wanton noise before they pulled themself away from Geralt’s hands for a moment. They wished to focus fully on this task. 

They turned, straddling Geralt in the opposite direction, their ass nestling against that lovely downy hair they’d pet on Geralt’s chest, and finally got a good look at what they’d taken in the woods. 

Gods, Geralt was thick. Their mouth watered at the sight of his erection, jutting out and upwards away from his muscled thighs. The head of his cock was rosy and wet with precum, and it glistened in the firelight. Jaskier took its width with both hands around the base and leaned down to lick that glistening moisture from the tip. Geralt’s hips jerked up towards their mouth.

”Nnnghh- Oh!” He sounded surprised at how good it felt to have a mouth on his cock. His fingertips slid down Jaskier’s back, his sharp nails leaving thin red welts in their wake. He gripped Jaskier’s ass, spreading their cheeks. “This is a good position you’ve chosen.” He said as his thumb tip pressed at the edge of Jaskier’s hole.

Jaskier hummed in appreciation of Geralt’s observation as they filled their mouth with the taste (and breadth) of Geralt’s cock. They could barely fit their lips around as they tried to slide further down, and they stroked upwards with their hands to meet their mouth in compromise. They loved a challenge, and Geralt was making it quite clear he was happy to let Jaskier experiment. 

“That-” Geralt’s words became muffled as he leaned forward to nuzzle at Jaskier’s bollocks. “That feels really fucking good.” His nose traveled up Jaskier’s perineum until he reached the pucker of their asshole. He flattened his tongue and licked over it with a hum.

“Mmmfph…” Jaskier groaned, their mouth full. They bobbed their head a few times along the top half of Geralt’s cock and wiggled their ass backwards onto the pressure from Geralt’s tongue. 

Fuck. 

They squeezed their grip a little tighter and took a steadying breath. Geralt was right… this felt fucking good. They wanted to see how much they could take in, and inched their way downwards with every suck and stroke, held their tongue flat against the curve of Geralt’s cock and tried to relax the back of their throat. 

Geralt pressed his cheek against Jaskier’s ass and moaned. “That's such a tease-” Geralt’s tone sounded wrecked. Like he was trying to hold his composure together but was failing miserably. Jaskier couldn’t help but feel a little validated by being the one to render this gorgeous man helpless. 

Geralt didn’t pause for long. Jaskier could soon feel the flat of their partner’s tongue against their ass again. More insistent this time. Greedier.

Jaskier panted through their nose, the sensation was becoming swiftly overwhelming, but they were determined to keep their focus, even as they felt their cock twitch and leak against the swell of Geralt’s chest. They moaned again, sending vibrations through Geralt’s cock as they lowered himself more—they had reached far enough down they could switch their grip. 

They laid their hands flat on either side of Geralt’s cock, smoothing across the skin and coarse hair. Just an inch or two more… They swallowed and felt their throat constrict.

Fuck. 

They pulled back up with a moan and a gasp, unable to fit it all. Geralt’s cock was slick with their spit, and a line suspended between their lips and the tip of it as they brought their grip back to the magnificent length and stroked it a couple times. 

Geralt’s hips jerked upwards, chasing the friction of Jaskier’s mouth and he pressed his thumb into their hole again. 

“Where is that slippery stuff?” He asked between pants. “I need- I want to be inside you-” His words were cut off as he pressed his mouth against the rim of Jaskier’s hole and sucked. 

Jaskier dropped their head down and cried out, feeling Geralt’s tongue licking them open and the grating of his stubble against the inside of their ass cheeks… they quivered like a plucked bowstring and nodded. They licked a parting line up Geralt’s cock before picking themself up to a kneeling position again and looked around with a hazy focus. 

“Ah… it’s—“ They trembled again and their fingers clenched at the tops of Geralt’s thighs as they felt his tongue swipe inside of them, “Fffuck—it’s in the drawer… The table…” They pointed to the bedside table; but their angle was not so that they could reach it. 

“ Hnnnggghh-” Was the only response that Jaskier got as Geralt worked a finger inside them alongside his tongue. 

Jaskier’s brain stopped working for a moment, and they spread their legs wider and pressed down onto the sensation, their mouth hanging open as they moaned. They couldn’t even give a thought in the moment that they may be seriously in danger of suffocating Geralt, it felt so good. 

“Ah, yes… there…” They panted.

Geralt didn’t speak, his mouth was too busy as he continued to fuck Jaskier with his tongue and finger. When he heard Jaskier’s words, he pressed his finger there again and held it with a wriggling pressure. Jaskier stiffened, their body trembling as Geralt held them there, gasping for a long moment. Jaskier moaned when he finally pulled back. 

“You’re so perfect. Keep telling me what you like.”

“F-fuck, Geralt. I want… I want you to fuck me again. Make me come buried inside me with this big fucking cock of yours…” Their grip found its way around Geralt’s cock and squeezed around the base as if to demonstrate, “I want to feel you inside me until it fills me up and spills over…” 

With a growl, Geralt gripped Jaskier hard around the waist and manhandled them over onto their belly, arms sprawling above their head. His mouth came down to the nape of Jaskier’s neck where he bit posessively. The bite was hard but still didn’t break the skin. Slick fingers spread the cheeks of their ass apart. They weren’t sure exactly when Geralt had grabbed the ointment but his oiled digits stretched them smoothly and suddenly--and Jaskier cried out and gripped the blankets at the insistent breaching—no, claiming of their backside. 

The friction from the mattress beneath them squeezed Jaskier’s erection between the sheets and their belly as Geralt held them down and fingered them roughly. 

“Fuck… So hard, I’m so hard, Geralt…” They babbled, bucking backwards as best they could with the little purchase they had, “Want this… want you…”

With that, Geralt let go of Jaskier’s neck, licking over the indents his sharp teeth left behind. He nuzzled up into Jaskier’s hair line, inhaling deeply and then the fat head of his cock was pressing against Jaskier’s hole. He entered them slow but judging how wet it felt, Jaskier knew that Geralt had put more salv onto his cock before taking them. 

“Fuck fuck fuck-” Geralt chanted gruffly as he pressed inside. His normally controlled tone was a low ruined rumble that shimmered over Jaskier’s skin. Finally, Geralt was balls deep and he panted against the Red Rider’s neck as he let them adjust.

Jaskier wished they could see Geralt—but their eyes were shut anyway as they adjusted to the stretch and slow burn, so perhaps it didn’t matter much. The angle they had at the moment was glorious and slick and Jaskier felt so full. 

“Fuck,” They said ineloquently into the blanket, and they turned their head to gasp in some fresher air. “Geralt… I’ve never—you’re so fucking big. I’ve never—“ Their thoughts weren’t entirely coherent, but they were sure that it wouldn’t be minded, “Want you to fuck me… until I can’t fucking speak or think or—“

One of Geralt’s thick arms wrapped around Jaskier’s trim waist and held them tight. The other came down beside Jaskier’s shoulder for leverage as he got a knee up to pull back and fuck into Jaskier hard. He repeated the movement, moaning low and started nibbling along Jaskier’s neck again.

“You smell like- mate-” He managed. “I want to keep you. I want to claim-” He let a strangled sort of groan, shoving himself in deep with a sharp thrust. “I wish I could breed you.”

“Breed me…” Jaskier echoed, their breath coming in gasps as Geralt fucked them “Nngg… you—say such—aah! Th-things…”They surrendered to the sensation and arched their back to try to lift their hips to Geralt’s rhythm. The result was relentless friction from the mattress beneath them. Jaskier could feel the blanket furrowing slick beneath them. They groaned helplessly, “F-fuck it… If we keep trying…” They let out a breath of a laugh, “It c-could work…”

The comment resulted in another growl, this one sounding more animalistic than before. “You tease me.” He let his arm slide a little looser along Jaskier’s waist so the palm of his hand slid over their belly. “You would look so pretty fat with my pups though.”

Jaskier grunted, thrusting forwards towards Geralts’ hand and then backwards onto his cock. Geralt was proving to be stranger than anyone they’d ever coupled with--and the words that he whispered huskily into their ears had them tingling in ways they’d never even thought about before. They bit at the soft blanket beneath their head because they felt compelled to do something with their mouth. 

“Fuck, Geralt…” They whimpered, feeling dizzy from the myriad of sensations. “Fuck--fuck me…”

With that, Geralt moved his hand onto Jaskier’s hip, gripping tight. He surrendered to abandon and fucked into Jaskier with everything he had, claiming them with every thrust. “I want you to come on my cock for me. I want to see you come like a bitch.”

The noises that Jaskier made into the mattress were unintelligible but enthusiastic; a series of breathy gasps and staccato shouts that aligned with Geralt’s hardest thrusts. 

Fuck, it felt so good, being shoved over and taken like this. It was wild and passionate and made Jaskier’s world narrow to this place, this moment in time so much that the firelight, the ragged gasps, the feeling of being stretched and used by Geralt’s thick cock became their perspective. It felt good, so fucking good. 

And then with a shift so miniscule, Jaskier’s vision went white with pleasure and they groaned uncontrollably. 

“OhfuckGeraltthere… that—fuck me there…”

Geralt pulled back a little, braced his hand between Jaskier’s shoulder blades, and pushed them further down infront of him. He got his foot up for more leverage and thrust sharply at the same angle that had Jaskier begging. 

“There?” He was somehow getting deeper than before and the head of his cock was squeezed tightly as it slid home inside them. 

The feeling had started in the soles of Jaskier’s feet, spread out as they were. They felt the flush of heat tingle upon their cheeks and chest—Geralt’s weight pinned them down as he fucked into them. They could feel it, the warmth rising from their heels and barreling down from their cheeks with every breath, building, roiling, ready to collide—they tried to let Geralt know, but they were out of words. Their breath hitched and they managed to stutter a moan before one final thrust shot them over the edge. 

It was blinding, this light and heat, and they could feel themself coming, humping into the mattress below them and backwards onto Geralt’s long, hard cock. Their body trembled as they fought for the last of the friction to wring them out. 

“Hmm there you go.” Geralt growled between thrusts. The pressure from the hand between Jaskier’s shoulder blades let up a little and rubbed down Jaskier’s spine. “Such a good bitch coming for me like that.” Geralt’s thrusts sped up, became more erratic and harder as Geralt chased his own orgasm. He growled out Jaskier’s name like sin when it finally hit him. He shoved himself deep into Jaskier’s body as he came as if he wanted his cum to stay there, marking Red forever. 

Somewhere in the heat of their orgasm, Jaskier felt the warmth inside and the feeling of being full enough to drip was a strangely comforting one. 

As they came down together, Geralt stayed inside Jaskier but moved to lap his tongue over the teeth marks he had left at the base of their neck. He hummed a little, moving to kiss Jaskier’s cheek and then the corner of their mouth. 

“Mine.” The word was so softly spoken Jaskier almost missed it entirely.

“Ah…” Jaskier gasped, turning their head sharply to gulp more air as they were compressed by Geralt’s weight. “Does that mean you want to stay the whole night this time…?”

Geralt nuzzled his nose into Jaskier’s hair and inhaled deeply. “If you would have me.”

Jaskier let out a soft chuckle at the discrepancy of the oh-so-dirty things Geralt had been whispering to them while pounding into them and this sweet, hesitant headiness of the current moment. 

“You silly beast. Stay. With me.”

Geralt hummed again as if pleased with himself and pressed his nose against Jaskier’s neck. He shifted to lay next to them instead of on top of them, his hands never leaving their skin. As if he were afraid of them disappearing from underneath his fingers.

“Are you hungry?” 

“No. I’m tired and very, quite thoroughly fucked.” Jaskier explained, and caught a small shift of Geralt's expression from underneath their soft lashes. Red Rider smiled, “but what you can do for me is get me something for this atrocious damp spot I’m lying in… and then I would very much like you to come back to bed so I may appreciate your warmth and many many muscles. Yes, thank you.” They closed their eyes the rest of the way to bask in the afterglow. 

“Where can I find you fresh bedding?” Geralt asked softly with the hint of a smile. When Jaskier gestured limply to an armoire in the corner, Geralt got up to do as asked. He brought a fresh quilt, and proceeded to lift Jaskier around as he remade the bed beneath them. Once Red Rider was laying back down on their back, Geralt shifted over them to take their soft cock in his mouth. It was not slow and Jaskier realized that Geralt was not trying to arouse them again. He was cleaning the rest of the cum off.

Jaskier groaned at the thought and wove fingers into Geralt’s silver locks and with some gentle pressure dragged him upwards to lie beside them. 

“Are you going to sleep? Or are you nocturnal?” Jaskier’s eyebrow quirked upwards slowly, but did not open their eyes. 

“Hmmm-” Geralt kissed Jaskier’s mouth in reply. He stretched out beside them, wrapping an arm tight around them and settled with his nose against Jaskier’s sweat glands. “Nocturnal… but I’m tired. I’m going to sleep.”

“Good.” Jaskier let the warmth comfort them, they would ask questions in the morning. Now, it was time to sleep like they’d just been fucked: deeply. 

~

Geralt was awake long before morning, bathed in the scent of Jaskier. His mind drifted to the night before when they fucked… To all the filthy things he had said. And How well Jaskier had responded to him. It was as if the healer had enjoyed being claimed. Being told how much Geralt wanted to fill them with pups. The way they fucked may not result in pups, but it had felt right...

‘You silly beast.’

Jaskier smelled like mate, like home and the thing that instinct was demanding Geralt do was provide. He slipped from the bed and out the door, into the night. The cool air felt good against his heated skin. Skin heated by Jaskier’s body.

The thought sent shivers down Geralt’s spine before the waves of the change followed them. When his body stopped contorting, he shook out his fur and the last vestiges of his human form. So far as he knew, Jaskier had not eaten the night before and would wake hungry. He would make sure that his mate would not stay that way for long.

~

Jaskier woke to birdsong outside the window and the first beams of morning light shining on the drifting motes in the air. The small moment of peace was interrupted by a knock at the door. Jaskier woke up fully then and realized that they were alone in the bed, though the spot where Geralt had been was still rumpled and warm.

Jaskier had a moment of disappointment that Geralt had left again. They’d wanted him to… fuck, what were they doing? This strange always-naked man that had followed them home from the woods to give them the best fucks of their life… Was proving to have a lot of rather queer—and potentially dangerous deviations away from Jaskier’s “normal” life. The way he talked, absolute nonsense… But it had reminded them of something they had learned when they had been much younger in the woods with their grandmother…

About magic, about beasts. 

It made them feel warm remembering it, and they had so many questions. 

Fuck, the door. 

“Coming!” They shouted in response, dragging themself up out of bed (fresh sheets?!) and threw their shirt over their head and cast about for their breeches. Another knock. “Ah, yes—sorry, a moment!” They jumped into their breeches—and slung the red cape over themself, perhaps it would do to make them look less… Ravaged. 

Councillor Boe was at the door.

“Jaskier, good morning.” She said when Little Red Rider opened the door. “Sorry that it's so early but I wanted to catch people before they got busy with their day.” If Boe had felt that something was off or wondered about Jaskier’s state of dress, her tone and expression did not give it away.

“Councillor… Forgive me, what can I help you with?” Jaskier asked, hoping it would not seem rude that they did not invite her inside.

“I am speaking to everyone who saw Colby before he died and someone mentioned that he came around here the day of the… Attack. I just wanted your account of the visit.” Boe explained. 

Jaskier’s ears pricked and they felt a small chill run down their spine. 

“Of course, councillor. Let me just put on my boots… I’ll walk with you. I have to put Pegasus out to pasture, if you don’t mind accompanying me on some of my chores this morning.” Jaskier said before ducking back inside for a moment. 

They closed the door and leaned against it once inside, giving themself a moment to breathe and collect themselves. They hadn’t done anything wrong… In fact, it had been Colby and the others who had antagonized them--so why did it feel like they were about to get caught out? 

They pushed themself up off the door (it’s creak reminded them of being pressed against it even harder last night) and found their boots. They gave themself a slightly more thorough once-over before they headed out to find the councillor outside. 

“This way if you would, Councillor Boe.” They led the way to the stable paddock, a short walk from the cottage towards the mountainside pasture in behind. Their cottage was further from the heart of town than most, which gave them plenty of space, and reminded them just how remote the town really was.

“Who told you Colby came by to see me?” They asked, trying to make it sound conversational as they opened the gate to let them both pass through. Boe followed at Jaskier’s side and they couldn’t help but notice how the Councillor was looking at the tree line and around the yard. Looking for clues no doubt.

“You know I can’t tell you that.” Boe replied as they walked. “Tell me about the visit. Anything you can remember.”

“Colby Belcher and I were not friends… that is no secret.” Jaskier sighed as they crossed the sandy paddock to the stable. Pegasus had yet to poke their head out, “He came by to see if I had brought anything extra that I would give him from my latest gathering. I told him no.” Jaskier wondered if it could be that simple. They opened up the barn door, to find that of course, Pegasus was sleeping in their stall. They allowed himself a small smile as they caught up a lead rope to bring them outside. Pegasus nickered softly as they woke up and stuck a nose out to see if Jaskier had brought them anything. An apple from a pocket was a just reward. 

“I am assuming that he reacted poorly to the news.” Boe said. “It was also no secret that Colby could be quite… cruel when he wanted to be.” She looked around the small stable. “Is there something I can help you with as we talk?”

Jaskier handed her a bucket. “We’ll get some oats to give them before we turn them out… thank you, councillor.” Pegasus whinnied at the mention of oats and Jaskier smiled, patting their shoulder. Back to the matter at hand, however, “He didn’t like it, no.” They confirmed the Councillor’s suspicions. “Councillor, you don’t believe this has to do with the witch in the woods, do you? Surely…”

“Not even a little.” The Councillor replied. “That’s why I am making my rounds. Asking Questions. I believe that it was a simple animal attack, however, to keep peace in this town I must be thorough.” She moved to the barrel marked ‘oats’ and put a generous helping into the bucket and passed it back to Jaskier.

Jaskier thanked her, and couldn’t help but think of the figure of the white wolf they’d seen outside the Lyrical Swan the night before. They sucked at their cheeks—they didn’t know if they should say anything about that either. Everything felt very uneasy. 

“Have you spoken with anyone who was at the Swan with him?” They tried diverting the conversation as Pegasus started in on their oats with a happy snort. 

“I spoke to a few of them last night. I’ll be seeing the rest this morning. I came here first. I always enjoyed a morning walk and since you are the farthest from town I thought I’d start here.” Boe reached up to stroke Pegasus down their forehead. “They are lovely.” She remarked, still watching Pegasus eat.

Jaskier smiled genuinely. “They are lovely, I agree. As lovely as they are stubborn at times.” Pegasus enjoyed the attention and was soon at the bottom of their bucket. Jaskier led them outside, the pasture would be a nice walk for them all. “Well, other than him being annoyed at not getting anything for free from me, my visit from Colby had nothing out of the ordinary.” It wasn’t completely a lie. Their run-ins often ended exactly like it had the other day. Excluding finding their cape returned, carefully hung in front of their door the next morning… They really didn’t want to mention that. Especially since they had no idea what it meant either. 

Councillor Boe nodded. “Alright. Thank you for speaking with me so early. Especially when you have company.” She stopped with Jaskier as they arrived at the gate to the pasture where Pegasus would spend their afternoon.

Jaskier hid their surprise at the statement quite well, considering. 

“Uh, yes. Of course, Councillor. Happy to… Help.” They said, taking that moment to turn from Councillor Boe and release Pegasus into the meadow. The horse ran for only a moment before putting their head down to eat. 

“Who was the man who was here in the morning? I haven’t seen him before but I only got a glimpse of him before he was off to the privy.” Boe asked curiously..

“Oh!” Jaskier tried not to sound like this was new information. “He’s… A friend of my grandmother’s. He came last night.”

Boe nodded. "He came just last night? How long is he staying with you?” 

“I…” Jaskier hesitated, “Indefinitely.” They said spontaneously. “Extenuating circumstances and all… I told him he was welcome to stay…”

Boe nodded again, looking at the tree-line again. “Can I come back later to speak to him? I want to be as thorough as possible. People are feeling pretty antsy after Allan ran his fool mouth.”

“Oh… I—“ Jaskier really didn’t want to sound untrustworthy in this particular moment, but they honestly didn’t know. So they guessed instead, “I will have to ask him… He seems.. Uh, unwilling to accept such a huge generosity from me… I’m currently trying to convince him to stay so...” They paused, hoping Boe was following, “I shall ask.”

Boe smiled. “Thanks Red. It's real nice of you to offer to take in a friend of your Grandmother’s, rest her soul. She had always been a good friend of my family.” They patted Jaskier on the back. A friendly touch. “I should get going. I want to catch the others before they get busy. I’ll come around tonight to see if your visitor is up to talking.”

“Oh you know me, Councillor—always looking to help.” They offered a genuine smile and then Councillor Boe was on her way along the long path back to town. 

Jaskier waved one final time before the Councillor turned, and they swiftly closed the gate and nearly sprinted back to the cottage. They had to find Geralt.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello from Himmmbo! We wanted to thank you for all the support on chapter one. You guys are awesome and so very hungry! We are currently plotting for part 2! So if there is anything you would like to see, drop us a comment down below!


	3. Beware Politicians on your Premises

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It was more the look on Jaskier’s face that was taking him apart than it was the slim digit that was wriggling inside of him. That sharp wolfish smile on the Human looked so dangerous and wild and for the first time in his life, Geralt felt a little like prey. But it wasn’t even just the look in their eyes. It was the words, how they were said. Jaskier was teasing him. They weren't saying those words as a ripe docile mate would. They were moving and speaking like an alpha. 
> 
> Are you mine Geralt? Jaskier had asked. And then Jaskier’s nose was running over the scent gland on Geralt’s neck as if they were scenting him. He knew that Jaskier couldn’t smell him like that with their human nose but the movement still thrilled him. Do you want me to lay claim to you too?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bread says Happy Tuesday! Here’s chapter three in which we address the very serious interview and make a harness out of a nightgown. As usual, we welcome feedback on how you’ve been enjoying the series, and we’re working on some tasty morsels for some upcoming story arcs, so give the series a follow (or us, as humble authors) to keep in the loop of updates. A couple more chapters to go for this arc, excited to see what you’ll think!
> 
> Himmbo here! I just want to thank you all for your comments and enthusiastic responses. It truly makes my (our) day to read them. <3

When Geralt was sure that the strange woman was gone, he made his way out of the woods and through Jaskier’s garden to go back to them. He was looking forward to showing them the deer he had brought them and hoped they would be pleased. It was a smaller deer but it was harder to take them down by one’s self. Wolves hunted in packs for a reason. 

He had just finished stepping through the garden when the back door of the cottage opened and Jaskier emerged. They did not look happy. “Jaskier-” Geralt started in greeting.

“Geralt!” Jaskier barked, blue eyes wide with something that smelled a bit panicky. The scent of it made Geralt’s nose wrinkle a little. “You didn’t stay this morning! I thought you’d left again… And then Councillor Boe knocked around and she saw you, she said, and wanted to ask questions which I just… I just don’t feel… What is that?”

“I only left this morning to hunt… And I left again when I heard the woman--Boe coming up.” Geralt explained. But Jaskier had mentioned questions. That made Geralt very uneasy. Why would a random human want to ask him questions? Did she want to lay a claim to Jaskier? “What kind of questions?” The idea of anyone wanting to challenge him for Jaskier made his hackles raise and he felt his canines lengthen just a little before he got himself under control. 

“To hunt.” Jaskier was staring, not at Geralt (for once) but rather at the dead deer on their back garden stoop. “Geralt…” They asked softly, “I need to know something, and I need you to tell me the truth.” They looked the large, scarred, naked man right in the eye, “Is this… Is this the first thing you’ve killed for me?”

Geralt cocked his head to the side slightly, regarding Jaskier. Technically, he had killed that man for Jaskier. But technically it had not been for Jaskier because he had not killed that man for food. That had been a fulfillment of a need to protect his potential mate. But looking at Jaskier’s face. The seriousness, the discomfort.

Geralt was suddenly very aware of the fact that Jaskier might not be as accepting of having a wolf for a mate as Geralt had been about having a human as one. Now, Geralt was aware of the possibility of Jaskier rejecting him. He had to tread carefully and bending the truth would likely not go in his favor.

“No… It isn’t.”

Jaskier’s jaw tightened before they asked the next question.

“And the other… Thing…” They paused, choosing their words very carefully, “Did you then return my cloak to me… After?”

Geralt’s lips pressed together a little. Jaskier did not seem pleased. They seemed almost scared. Geralt tested the air between them. The notes of panic were still there. Resignation. The strongest smell was fear, acrid and bitter at the back of Geralt’s throat. He took a step back, ready to run. What if he had misjudged this situation? Humans killed wolves. He nodded slowly before answering. “Yes…”

“Shit.” Jaskier swore, but didn’t move. Instead they rubbed their hand against their forehead in annoyance, heaved a long-rattling sigh. “Get inside.” They said after a moment. “We need to talk and… You need to put something on.” They turned their back and strode into the cottage.

Geralt hesitated before following Jaskier inside. His eyes darted around the small cottage when he entered, reminding himself where the weapons were. The places he could use to escape. He lingered by the door and watched Jaskier cautiously. The human was going through a wardrobe, looking for something. 

When Jaskier didn’t start talking, Geralt scented the air again before asking: “What did you want to talk about?”

“You are going to be questioned about the night of the attack, and you’re going to have to lie convincingly…” Jaskier said, pulling out a large jumper. They made a face and kept looking, “Which I am really not sure you’re going to be good at, actually.” They sighed, “Sorry, but it’s true. I mean… I think I’ve been avoiding the obvious… Because you’re really quite attractive and a very good lay and all.” 

Jaskier pulled out a pair of breeches that when held aloft revealed a large hole in the crotch. They grumbled and tossed them over their shoulder also, “But I seem to have fucked myself into a rather tight spot (again) and I’m going to have to work very fast,” They pulled out a long cream-coloured nightgown. They arched an eyebrow and held it up in appraisal, “To try to keep you safe. Put this on.” They held out the garment to Geralt.

Geralt hesitated again before moving further into the cottage to take the garment. He held it in front of himself to look at it, then looked at Jaskier’s stern expression. No room for argument. With a small huff, Geralt pulled it over his head and tried to wriggle into it. 

He was so unused to putting things onto his body that the fabric around his head and arms disoriented him a moment and he stumbled to the side and bumped into a table. He growled at the offending furniture and then Jaskier’s hands were on him to pull the nightgown down around him. The garment was tight across the chest and shoulders. Geralt hated it immediately.

Jaskier regarded him with a critical eye (there was a small flash of appreciation when they took in the way the fabric stretched across his broad chest) but then they cleared their throat and went back to the wardrobe. 

“I realize this might seem a little unfair… And I realize too that I made some assumptions about you—and the way you looked—because I figured it would be easier than asking those questions.” Jaskier frowned as they rifled through the top shelves. They pulled out a shawl and a cap, a thoughtful expression on their face, “You… You’re not human, are you?”

Geralt hesitated the third time that day. He stared at Jaskier a moment before licking his lips and lowering his gaze. “No…”

He was surprised by the gentleness of the sensation of Jaskier sliding the shawl around his shoulders. Geralt couldn’t help but lift his hands to cover Jaskier’s on his chest.

“I saw you last night, didn’t I? Before I got home? You were… In the woods, but you didn’t look like this…”

“Yes… I was there. I was-” Geralt was not used to feeling so… Unsure of himself. He didn’t like how he felt like he couldn’t meet Jaskier’s eyes. He felt shame for what he was for the first time. “I wanted to make sure you were safe.”

Jaskier looked like they had so many questions that they were barely containing. “I’ve never met a werewolf before-” Werewolf! Geralt prickled at that but let Jaskier continue. “Let alone bedded one. Wouldn’t have thought to, perhaps… But here we are.” They sounded a bit bewildered. They patted Geralt’s chest and pulled their hands away. “I suspect that had to do with the talk of pups and mate and—“ They paused again, “Oh, gods… Are you… Are we…?”

“Are we what?” Geralt asked. The shawl was prickling his skin through the night gown and he itched to rip the whole ridiculous thing to shreds. 

“I don’t really know wolf etiquette that much… Or at all… Are you looking for a mate? Do you mate for life? Is it something that I… Said? Should have said? Oh gods… Are we bonded?” Jaskier smelled flustered, but there was a definite lack of the rotten scent of regret. 

Geralt couldn’t help but feel a bit of sadness. Jaskier was understandably confused and overwhelmed. “We are not a bonded pair, no. I had hoped-” He snapped his mouth shut and looked away again. “I had not been looking for a mate. I am a bit of a… I don’t have a pack. I hadn’t wanted one until I saw, smelled you…”

Jaskier seemed to glow at Geralt’s admission, but their brow drew together in worry once more. “Geralt, you’re in a lot of danger,” Jaskier’s tone was soft, “You could leave, run back into the forest and away from here before any villagers could suspect you,” They bit their bottom lip as they considered the next words very carefully, “Or… You could stay. With me. I… Can’t promise I can keep you safe, but I am really, really going to try.”

Jaskier’s words drew Geralt’s eyes back up to theirs in surprise. “You- You want me to stay?” He held his breath then, hoping it would be true. 

Jaskier’s look changed from confusion to a soft helplessness. 

“You silly beast,” They muttered in wonder, “You do realize that I’m not afraid of you—in fact, that I’m quite caught up in you… You haven’t noticed?” They quirked an eyebrow and chuckled, “Right. Yes, I want you to stay… Things are going to be a little tricky though, with you being the very deadly thing you are… And you’re going to have to convince the town councillor that you are in fact a friend of my grandmother’s whose dire situation has caused you to be put up by me for an indeterminate amount of time.” They held out the cap towards Geralt, “So we’ve got to get you to try to look sickly… And perhaps a little mad.”

~

Jaskier was nervous. They’d spent the last few hours coaching their Wolf on their Grandmother’s lore—luckily Geralt was very wood-wise already, which would add to his credibility, but they’d had to invent an illness that would cause him to have to rely on someone else to care for him. In the end, a slightly magical malady would do the trick, hopefully, and Geralt’s new persona would have to hold up to the scrutiny of Councillor Boe who had been a friend of their late elder. 

They’d tucked Geralt into the bed, surrounded him with pillows and steaming vats of warm water to complete the illusion and had just finished bundling up some herbs to hang around the rafters when the knock came on the door. Geralt growled at the noise, baring his teeth a little. Jaskier slid him a look of admonishment and headed to open the door.

“Ah. Hello again Jaskier.” Councillor Boe said with a smile. “I am hoping to speak to your visitor.” Geralt chose that moment to throw himself into a fake coughing fit. Boe rose a brow, peering over Jaskier’s shoulder. “Is he unwell?”

“Ah, yes. It’s unlike anything I’ve witnessed before, I’m afraid, but I’m doing my best to treat him. I don’t believe it’s contagious…” They added, knowing that their reputation as a healer would hold some clout, “I think it has to do with a curse… Perhaps something he picked up in the woods. It… Manifests in strange ways.” They raised their voice a little to introduce, “Councillor Boe is here, Geralt, are you feeling well enough to speak with her?”

“Hmm.” Geralt replied. He looked up at Jaskier with furrowed brows before adding. "Yes…"

"Good, good." Boe said and approached the bed. "So you were friends with Ingrid then?"

"Hmm."

"And how long did you know her?"

"Since I was a pup." 

"How did you know her?" 

Geralt hesitated at that and glanced at Jaskier. "My… Mother…"

“His mother was one of her suppliers, Of verbena, primarily and some rarer fungi. My grandmother was very fond of using verbena as a base for many of her tonics.” They prompted, hoping Geralt could take up the story from there and fill it out. 

“We lived deeper in the woods and had access to some plants that are more difficult to locate.” Geralt added.

“Ah. I see. You lived closer to a neighboring town then?” Boe asked. Geralt nodded. “Why did you come here when you became sick?”

“I was looking for Ingrid.” Geralt explained. “I knew that if anyone could help me get well it would be her… I had no idea she had passed.”

“Did you know of Jaskier then?” 

“I knew of them. But we had never met. My Mother dealt with Ingrid mostly. I worked as a farm hand once I was old enough. When my Mother passed away, I stopped getting updates about Ingrid. I think she passed before Ingrid did. My Mother and I weren’t close.” 

Jaskier raised their hand to their mouth, and Geralt’s eyes flicked to the movement, reminding him to throw in another bout of coughing. 

“He has strange spells of weakness that come and go, Councillor. I’m looking into possible effects of certain herbal compounds or something that he may have been exposed to…” Geralt faked another fit of coughing as Jaskier lowered their voice, “It also seems to affect the way he associates himself with others… Strange moods in passing… I am not sure how long it will last.” They opened it back up to include Geralt again, “You’ve made it out of bed a few times, but mostly stayed here for… Observation’s sake.”

Geralt nodded. “I didn’t mention yet but I got really dizzy this morning on the way to the privy. That’s why I took so long.”

Boe was frowning. “It sounds like a horrible ordeal…”

Geralt nodded, coughing again and looking generally miserable. “I’m blessed that Ingrid taught Jaskier as well as she did…”

“Well I think I’ve taken enough of your time. Thanks for speaking with me.” She studied Geralt a moment longer. “Your eyes… What colour would you say they are?”

The question made Geralt tense a little. “Light brown. My Mother always said they looked… Different in candle light.”

Boe nodded slowly. “Well I hope you are better soon. You are in good hands.”

Jaskier nodded sagely and followed Councillor Boe to the door, “I hope… Everything is all right, Councillor. It seems I may have been able to convince Geralt to stay for now, but if he worsens…” They let the sentence trail off. “I have my work cut out for me. Will you keep me updated if you need anything?” They asked, hoping it came off innocently. 

The Councillor nodded. “Of course Jaskier. And let me know if there is anything I can do to help your friend… It seems grim for him.” She held a look of regret about her. Boe had always been a caring soul, it was why she was so good at her job. 

“Of course, thank you.” Jaskier conceded and Councillor Boe headed out the door, “Stay safe, Councillor!” They waved and watched her walk away for a moment before closing the door. They released a tight breath. “I think… I think she believed us.” They said tentatively, and turned to Geralt. “Good job, Wolf.” The tension in between their eyebrows dissipated as they came closer. “You did very well.” 

Geralt sat up and pulled the shawl off of his shoulders. “Can I take this ridiculous garment off now?” He asked, pulling at the neckline of the night gown. “I feel like I’m suffocating.” He was complaining but Jaskier could see the pleased look on his face under the glower. The Wolf had enjoyed the praise.

“You mean you don’t like my grandmother’s old nightgown?” Jaskier smirked, moving close enough to slide onto a knee on the bed, “But you look so becoming in it…”

Geralt huffed in annoyance and Jaskier could almost imagine that if he had ears on his head, they’d flatten backwards. “I don’t like clothes in general.”

“Oh, is the big bad Wolf feeling too confined?” Jaskier teased, and reached a hand out to smooth along Geralt’s neck and shoulder, “My, my… For what big arms you have…” They remarked as they traced the line of Geralt’s bicep as it strained against the fabric of the nightgown’s sleeve. “And what a broad chest…” They placed their palm flat in the middle of Geralt’s chest where the fibres of the material had turned skintight to try to cross the expanse. Jaskier grinned.

Geralt let his hand run up Jaskier’s thigh to rest on their waist, pulling them a bit closer to him. 

“But it doesn’t seem too constricting here…” Jaskier lowered their touch, tracing sensually downwards along Geralt’s belly, “My, my, dear Wolf… What a large cock you have…”

Geralt grinned with the final comment and licked his lips, looking up at Jaskier’s face. “The better to fuck you with, my Mate.”

Jaskier let out a soft gasp that parted their lips into a smile, and they reached downwards to stroke Geralt’s cock through the fabric. They watched the nightgown fabric stretch even tighter as Geralt breathed in sharply, always catching the scent of the air. Jaskier idly wondered what everything smelled like to someone with Wolf’s senses. 

Geralt’s fingers tightened on Jaskier’s waist, pulling them closer. His other hand came up to Jaskier’s hip so he could position them in his lap. Here he pressed closer, his nose scenting the sweat gland on Jaskier’s neck. He inhaled deeply with a moan, running his fingers through their hair to keep them where he wanted them.. 

“You’re insatiable.”

“I have been called that before, yes, and it still rings true…” Jaskier ran a hand up the back of Geralt’s neck, combing up into his silver locks. They tightened their fingers around the strands and directed Geralt’s head where they wished his tongue to go next, higher along their neck towards their ear, “I’m beginning to get quite accustomed to the idea of being able to fuck you… Regularly.” Jaskier grinned and cocked an eyebrow, “You’ll have me earning my name over again.”

Geralt’s tongue slid along the curve of Jaskier’s jaw line, sending shivers along their skin. His teeth closed over the lobe of Jaskier’s ear next. “Little Red Rider?” He asked. His voice had deepened to that rich crushed velvet tone that Jaskier was starting to identify as being Geralt’s ‘Bedroom voice’.

“That one, yes…” Jaskier confirmed with a melodic hum and shivered into the teeth on their earlobe, “There’s plenty of reasons, but this one is my favourite.” Jaskier rocked their hips until they could feel Geralt’s cock responding underneath the nightgown. “And it’s definitely the naughtiest.” They dropped one hand to the waistband of their breeches, untying the stays at the back with one hand. The garment fell open enough to expose the rounded cheeks of their pert little ass. 

The action had their Wolf moaning, sliding his hands down Jaskier’s body to grip their ass tight. “By the Moon I love your ass.” He growled a little, letting his fingers dip in along the crease to tease at Jaskier’s hole. Always to the point this one. 

Jaskier wiggled into his hands; their ass was quite a fan of Geralt as well. They dipped their head to be able to kiss along the strong line of the tendon of Geralt’s neck, earning Jaskier a gaspy groan. “Are you going to eat me up again, Wolf?” They smirked and muttered into the scruffy skin, “Or shall I see how much of you I could take right now?”

“Wouldn’t that hurt you?” Geralt asked, angling his head to offer his neck to them. As Jaskier had mentioned, they did not know wolf politics. But this seemed like something important. Animals didn’t just offer their necks to people they didn’t trust. 

“I imagine it could…” Jaskier let their words whisper warm into the shell of Geralt’s ear, “So you’ll have to make sure your cock is nice and slick for me—“ Jaskier had started rucking up the hem of the nightgown from underneath them, and tugged it to let Geralt know they needed him to shift over it, “And I’ll need you to hold still, very still, so I can take my time on you. Do you think you can do that?” Jaskier wriggled out of their trousers the rest of the way.

Geralt was nodding before he found words. “Yes, Jaskier.” He rasped, licking his lips. Jaskier pulled the nightgown up to expose Geralt’s abdomen and his furred chest. Jaskier watched his muscles flex as Geralt reached for the bedside table for the salve and they let out a low groan. Geralt opened the container so he could dip his fingers in and slick up his cock. He pulled Jaskier into a kiss then, humming as he reached around to smear some of the salve against Jaskier’s hole as well. Such a thoughtful beast.

Jaskier rolled their hips at the touch, then reached behind themself to grab Geralt’s wrist in their grip. “Hold yourself up for me…” They pulled and Geralt lowered his hand to his cock to do as Jaskier asked. His free hand ran up Jaskier’s thigh, over their hip and up under their shirt so he could spread his fingers over Jaskier’s chest.

“You’re beautiful.”

Jaskier could felt the reverberation of their heartbeat against the flat of Geralt’s palm… Their breath caught a moment, their cheeks stained with blush. Then they raised themself up on their knees in their straddle. They pressed the head of Geralt’s cock into the cleft of their ass as they hovered. They took a breath and pressed him against the ring of their asshole, rubbing it in small circles around the pucker. 

Geralt hissed a little and rubbed Jaskier’s chest. “You already feel good. Just be careful.” He sounded worried for Jaskier’s safety as he continued caressing them.

“Stay still… and I will.” Jaskier’s lashes drooped seductively, leaning forward to kiss Geralt’s nose and slide his dick in between the cheeks of their ass again. 

“I’ll try.” Geralt said, forcing himself to stay very still save for his hand on Jaskier’s chest. He slid it around to their back under their shirt so he could stroke Jaskier’s spine. 

Jaskier’s lips slid into a smile as they undulated back up to their knees with Geralt’s hand as his guide. They felt the hard slick length of Geralt’s cock back up against their hole and they took a breath and licked their lips. They perched overtop, circling the tip again for a few more strokes before they pressed further down and felt the head of Geralt’s cock start to stretch them. 

“Ahnnn…” Jaskier tipped their head and closed their eyes in concentration. They let out a small breathy chuckle. 

Geralt’s hand moved from Jaskier’s spine to his thigh. “You’re trembling… I don’t mind putting my fingers into you first-”

“No, it feels good… It’s a good burn.” Jaskier said quickly, “Just stay… still.” They cracked an eye open to watch Geralt’s expression, “Don’t be impatient, Wolf. I want it, and I’m going to take it.” They bit their lips and pressed down again, and gasped when the head of Geralt’s cock breached into them with the change of angle. “Oh—”

Geralt’s fingers tightened around Jaskier’s thigh and he groaned. “It's yours to have.” His thighs twitched against Jaskier’s and the healer could feel how Geralt was holding back. “Fuck-- You feel… So much tighter than usual.”

Jaskier nodded wordlessly. Their thighs were burning from the prolonged descent, but it was actually easier now that Geralt was inside. Everything burned so good. They just wanted this forever... 

They let their hands reach forward for their Wolf; they clenched the nightgown fabric bunched up around his shoulders and they twisted it in their fists until it tightened like a harness. Something to hold onto as they rode. They took another deep breath and opened their eyes back up. 

“Stay still…”They repeated with a smirk. The cheeks of their ass touched against the knuckles of Geralt’s fist as he held his cock for Jaskier, and then pressed down further, encouraging him to move his hand. 

Geralt let go of his cock and moved his hand to Jaskier’s waist. “Does it still feel good?” He let the thumb of the hand on Jaskier’s waist brush over their skin. “Can I kiss you?... or do I have to wait?”

“Mmm… feels so good, Geralt…” Jaskier sang breathily, and a moment later, they felt the backs of their thighs against Geralt’s and they sank down all the way with a shiver. They sat for a moment, catching the breath they hadn’t realized they’d been holding. “Yes… Kiss me…”

With that, Geralt took Jaskier’s face in his hands to pull them into an open-mouthed kiss. When they pulled back for air, he moved to kiss Jaskier’s cheek, the corner of their mouth before capturing their mouth once more with a hum that sounded suspiciously like a purr. 

“Ah, yes… Geralt. So good…” Jaskier said in between kisses that occupied their lips, and after a moment, made a small lift with their thighs only to bounce back downwards again. They hissed. 

“Can I move now?” Geralt asked. The words came out with a deep groan. He didn’t know how to ‘stay’ but knew how to ‘stay still’ apparently. “Jaskier-”

Jaskier pulled back to watch Geralt’s face again, and with a sly (silent) smirk, bounced again on his cock, this time giving their ass a squeeze when they had sunk low again. 

A thin whine sounded from Geralt’s throat and he tucked his nose into Jaskier’s neck. “You tease me.” He panted.

“I do, but with every intention to follow through… Which I think—“ they punctuated the word with a peck on the cheekbone, “You enjoy a lot.” They arched their back and rolled their hips once more for good measure, “I’m going to ride you, Wolf… Now… Give me your best.”

Geralt’s growl came out so sharply it was almost a bark. As Geralt gripped Jaskier’s hips, they could swear that their Wolf’s teeth were sharper than they had been moments before. Geralt pulled Jaskier down into his lap, thrusting up hard.

“F-fuck—“ Jaskier exclaimed as Geralt bucked up into them and their hands tightened into fists in the fabric of the nightgown harness. It pulled Geralt up towards them and they kept a tight rein on it, their own arms flexing as they pulled Geralt into them with it. It allowed them to roll with Geralt’s fierce thrusts and rock them into a rhythmical pattern. Their head tipped back and they moaned in delight. 

Geralt grinned as he watched Jaskier. “Look at you.” He panted. “You look so wild, taking what's yours.” He was holding Jaskier’s hips so tightly that he was sure it was going to leave even more bruises. And then Geralt pressed their chests together so he could bite Jaskier’s throat hard with a deep rumble. Jaskier wasn’t sure if it was a growl or a groan.

“Is that so? Are you mine, Geralt?” Jaskier smirked as they rocked up and down on Geralt’s dick, “Do you want me to lay claim to you too?”

The Wolf was nodding against Jaskier’s neck, his hips stuttering up into his lover. “Yesssss. If you would have me. You feel like home, Jaskier.”

Jaskier bit their bottom lip as they rode Geralt’s chaotic rhythm. The angle was good, Geralt was thick, and they were feeling stretched and full… “You want me to fuck you, Geralt?” They asked breathily after a moment of thinking about it themself. They bit back a groan, “Would you let me?”

“O-ooh…” The movements of Geralt’s hips slowed and he pulled back a little to look at Jaskier’s face. “I-” There was another moment’s hesitation. Geralt searched Jaskier’s eyes before he was nodding. “Okay, Jaskier. Yes. I will let you.”

Jaskier stilled their motions for a moment, squeezing their muscles instead as he pulled Geralt in towards them by the nightgown ruffle. 

“Right now?” They asked, accompanied by a particularly insistent squeeze along the buried length of Geralt’s cock. 

Geralt’s hips made a shallow little thrust at the feeling of Jaskier clenching down on him. It took a moment for his brain to catch up. “If- If that's what you want.”

Jaskier hummed, still holding them both still in the consideration of their options. It felt so good to have Geralt inside them; they’d take this questioning a little further… 

“Oh, but Geralt—it’s not just about what I want.” They purred, letting their lips find the outer shell of Geralt’s ear again, and their cock twitched up against their Wolf’s chiseled abdomen, “I want to fuck you too, yes… but I wouldn’t make you do anything you don’t feel comfortable doing…” their tongue curled into the crevice of his earlobe, “You like fucking me, yes?” They bounced a little, to remind Geralt their current connection. 

A groan was punched out of Geralt’s chest at the feeling of Jaskier moving against him again. His fingers tightened around Jaskier’s waist. “Yessss.” He replied. “Yes I do. And I’m not uncomfortable with switching with you but. I’ve never done it before…”

Jaskier hummed and kissed him, their pace had slowed down to a smooth, constant rhythm that felt more like lovemaking than a quick-and-frantic fuck. They noticed, and marvelled at how quickly the man they had found naked in the woods on his last trip had worked his way to becoming an oft-feature of their bed. 

“Your first time? I’ll be gentle,” They assured, “Well, at least as gentle as you wish me or be…” They chuckled and nipped at Geralt’s lips with a wicked grin adorning their own. Their own cock twitched again and they lifted themself off with a groan.

Geralt leveled Jaskier with a heated look. “Wolves don’t really do this… but I won’t ask you to do something I wouldn't do in return for you. And you seem to enjoy it so…” on closer inspection, Jaskier could see the nervousness under the heat in Geralt’s eyes. The wild uncertainty of an untamed animal coming closer to a human for a scrap of food. 

Only, Jaskier mused to themself, the scrap of food would be Jaskier’s dick.

They reached over Geralt to the table beside the bed, grabbing the jar of oil and a cloth. They looked at Geralt, the nightshirt still pulled up above his taught pectorals, spread out in front of him erect and wide-eyed. Oh, what a gift he was… They smirked as they swiped him clean with the cloth, the extra texture was a sharp contrast when it was replaced with their soft dexterous fingers. 

“As much as I love having you come inside me…” They murmured closely as they palmed Geralt’s cock, causing the Wolf to whine needily, “I’ll get to see you come this time; and I do want you to come… If you can.” 

“I will.” Geralt replied without hesitation.

They dipped their fingers into the jar and Geral licked his lips, looked up at Jaskier’s eyes and spread his thighs for them in invitation. Jaskier spread the greasy salve over the base of Geralt’s cock—and then further down, pressing behind his balls. There was already a line of pre-cum running down Geralt’s cock..

“Confidence… I do love that in a man.” Jaskier purred and twisted their wrist so he could glide two fingers back and down along the crack of Geralt’s ass. It was slick and tight and made Jaskier’s cock pulse. “I also love being in a man…”

“I’m more confident in knowing that you know what you’re doing.” Geralt admitted and Jaskier grinned, their fingertips brushing against Geralt’s hole It was tightly puckered even as he spread his legs wide.

“You want me to open you up, Wolf?” Jaskier asked and Geralt let out a nervous, shaky breath and nodded.

“I want you to open me up.” He leaned forward then to wrap his arms around Jaskier and kiss them hard. 

The kiss was teeth and tongue, which could have been harsh were it not for the fact that Jaskier wanted it—so much. They let Geralt ravish their lips as their fingers worked slowly, pressing the pads of their fingertips in against his hole, dipping just inside as they were pulled to the insistent rhythm of Geralt’s kiss. 

“Fuck, Geralt…” They swore as soon as they were given a chance to breathe again. They pressed further inside—a knuckle and a fingertip deep, “You’re so tight… But so willing. Are you sure wolves don’t really do this…?” They grinned breathily. 

Geralt was biting his lip and staring down his body to where he was being penetrated. "Male wolves don't... The urge to breed is usually too strong- a-ahh." He cried out when Jaskier's finger slid deeper. "That's… A strange sensation…"

“So then it’s about me? You said before you wanted to breed me…” Jaskier recalled with a sharp smile. They were watching Geralt very closely and slowed at the consternation between his eyebrows. They wriggled their digit without increasing the depth, feeling Geralt working at relaxing for them, “Fill me up with pups, I believe you said…” They pressed their nose against Geralt’s neck, much like they had felt Geralt do to them. 

As Jaskier’s nose slid against Geralt’s neck, the Wolf’s breath hitched as if the air had been punched out of his lungs. A tremble went through him that Jaskier could feel against the hand that he had braced against Geralt’s chest. “Yes Jaskier.” He whispered before tipping his head and baring his neck to them.

Jaskier licked their tongue along the exposed line of tendon of Geralt’s neck and pressed their fingers deeper again, now deep enough with the width of two fingers to press Geralt open gently. They watched for his reaction in the way his muscles tightened, he was beautiful like this; pale as moonlight and oh-so-willing and trusting.

“Geralt, I swear,” Jaskier’s voice was husky, “You feel so fucking good…” They groaned, turning their gaze downwards to where their digits disappeared inside Geralt, “And earlier with the Councillor… You, you’ve done so well today—so attentive, so clever… Such a good Wolf…” They praised and crooked their fingers inside Geralt. 

Geralt let a broken little moaning sound that sounded more like a mewl than a big bad Wolf. His head fell back a little as pleasure laced through him. “Uunghh- Jaskier. Right there-” His fingers had found purchase in the quilt under him and he was hanging on for dear life. “G-good Wolf?” despite being in the throes of pleasure, Geralt still managed to raise a brow of indignation. 

Jaskier aimed for that spot again, revelling in the sight of Geralt clutching their sheets beneath them. Their eyes darkened as they watched Geralt writhe again from the stimulation. Their mouth twitched into a grin. “Yes… my Wolf.” They slipped the tip of another finger in alongside the first two. “So good. You’re getting ready for me… I want to be inside you. You feel…” Their words dissolved into a moan along Geralt’s neck again. 

Geralt’s moan was more like a whine this time and he let go of the quilt so he could wrap his arms around Jaskier’s shoulders to cling to them tightly. “It stings.” He gasped. But his hips canted forwards into Jaskier’s fingers.

“Bear down on me…” Jaskier advised, slowing their movement, “It’ll give you some control over how much you take…” They could feel their pulse hammering in the moment; they were so hard and wanted to be sheathed inside that tight wet heat—but the thought of going too quickly before Geralt was accustomed to it, before he was asking for it… They could take their time and make it sweet. 

The Wolf nodded, pulling back to look at Jaskier’s face. He did as asked, bearing down and Jaskier’s fingers slid deeper but easier. Geralt’s eyes slid shut, dark lashes fluttering against his cheeks. “That's better.” He rasped.

Jaskier kissed him, feeling a little overcome by the sight. The feeling of Geralt squeezing their digits made them groan and their hips pressed forward out of their control. Their cock slid against the crack of Geralt’s ass, bumping against their fingers. 

“Fuck, Geralt…” They spread his fingers inside, feeling a bit intoxicated by the heady arousal. There was a feeling in their belly that was heating up, fuelling something wild inside of them. 

Geralt licked his lips and looked up into Jaskier’s eyes with pinched brows. “How do I know when I’m ready?” he asked. “I want to feel you.”

Jaskier watched Geralt’s tongue, “You want to feel me, Wolf?” They canted their hips against Geralt and thrust their fingers a little deeper at the same time. “Deeper than this inside you?” They bit their bottom lip as they felt Geralt tighten around them again, “Fuck, yes,” They hissed and thrust their fingers inwards again, “I want it too…”

Another thin whine sounded from the Wolf’s throat and his squirm turned impatient. “Is it time?” He asked, clenching down on Jaskier’s fingers again. He sounded almost petulant and his little frown just made it all the more adorable.

“Oh gods…” Jaskier thrust in and out a few more slick strokes, but they were reaching the limit of their patience, “You’re looser than you were,” They spread their digits to demonstrate, brushing against the tight knot of nerves inside Geralt again, delighting at the way they could read it on Geralt’s face, “...Still so tight. You want me, Geralt?” They smirked.

“Yes.” Geralt growled. “I want it. I want you.” He rocked his hips up again to illustrate his point. “Please Jaskier.”

Jaskier groaned at the affirmation. Fuck, they didn’t realize how hot it would be to hear Geralt say that—like that. They were swiftly developing an automatic response to his growling. They nodded and slid their fingers from the tight heat of Geralt’s hole.

They took a deep breath to try to calm their racing pulse. They were rock hard and leaking, and they’d have to calm down a bit if they wanted to last any amount of time. They slid their cock along the slick trail left by their fingers. 

“Fuck…” They cursed quietly as they grasped themself, squeezing the base of their cock before they pressed the tip against Geralt’s ass. They looked up from the sight into his amber eyes, “Tell me if it’s too much… And I’ll stop…” They promised, even though they dreaded having to exercise that control. “I just…” They thrust forward shallowly and felt the head of their cock slip past the ring of muscle and the rest of their sentence disappeared into the sharp intake of their breath. 

“A-ah! Fuck!” Geralt’s eyes screwed shut as he was breached. His fingers tightened against Jaskier’s spine, his body curling towards his lover. “Thats… Intense-” He gasped. The gasp turned into a groan when they slid in another inch. “Are you sure it will fit?” His thighs trembled against Jaskier’s waist.

“Uh, uh huh…” Jaskier paused with a grunted effort, having slowed at Geralt’s outcry. Fuck, he was tight. “We can just wait—a moment…” They lifted one hand to tuck silver strands of hair from where they had fallen over Geralt’s eyes. “Look at me, Geralt,” They said, voice low, “If it’s too much…”

He was shaking his head even before he managed to pull his golden gaze up to meet Jaskier’s concern. “I can do this. I can take you- I want-” He took a deep breath and bore down on Jaskier. “Don’t stop.”

Jaskier’s mouth fell open as Geralt squeezed around their cock. Oh, they hadn't thought it could get tighter. They nodded and pressed forward again against the pressure. The look in Geralt’s eyes—the determination and hunger… 

“I want you, Wolf.” They muttered, leaning in close enough for their lips to brush against Geralt’s, and inched forward, their pace seemed impossibly slow. Until they felt the firm cheeks of Geralt’s ass against their hips. “Oh, fuck.”

Geralt took a moment to catch his breath before reaching up to wrap his fingers around the nape of Jaskier’s neck. He pulled them in and close for a hungry kiss. He kissed like he was afraid of them disappearing. His hole flexed around them as he got used to the feeling of it inside of him. And then moments later, Geralt ran his mouth to Jaskier’s ear. “Make your claim.” 

Jaskier’s hips jolted forward on their own accord at the request, resulting in a gasp from both of them. Another moment’s pause before Jaskier pulled back purposefully, slowly, and then back in with a short sharp thrust.

“Finally…” They groaned in response, a smile upon their lips and relief upon their brow, “All of this…” They muttered in between the kisses they planted on Geralt’s lips in return, “All mine.”

“Yours.” Geralt agreed. “Your Mate. Your Alpha.” He reached up to brush sweaty fringe from Jaskier’s brow. “Such a beautiful Mate you are.” He rocked his hips up to meet Jaskier’s thrusts. 

Feeling him rise up towards them reassured Jaskier that Geralt had finally become accustomed to the feeling of being filled; they pulled back a little further to change the angle of their thrusts ever-so-slightly. “As your Mate…” They echoed, and wrapped their grip in the collar and bunched-fabric of Geralt’s dressing gown, “I get to ride you like this too.” They grinned and their hips snapped forward, hard. 

The thrust pulled a yelp from Geralt. His hands started pulling at Jaskier’s shirt, trying to ruck it up higher and off. “Off-off-off.” The words came out as breathy gasps between Jaskier’s thrusts. When it was pulled off, he balled it up and tossed it aside before wrapping his arms around Jaskier’s neck again to pull them down for another searing kiss.

Jaskier was starting to feel that overwhelmed feeling again, burning hot in their belly. The kiss only fuelled it on, Geralt was insistent and needy, and that something inside Jaskier that had been trying to keep in check surged ahead. They groaned into the kiss. They wanted to hear Geralt moan, they wanted to hear Geralt scream… 

Their breath was hot as it mingled, their kiss was wet and disconnected and punctuated with the sound of skin against skin as Jaskier thrust inside. The angle was harsh, but Jaskier wanted to see their Wolf’s expression…

“Legs up, lie back.” Jaskier directed, leaning into Geralt as they slid one hand behind Geralt’s knee and down to encircle his ankle.

Geralt seemed to know the pose that Jaskier was guiding him into. He reached down to put his hands behind his knees to hold his legs up to his chest. His grin was sharp and wolfish. “Look at YOU, Jaskier. Taking control.”

Jaskier fixed him with a smouldering gaze, and took in the sight of the man beneath him: all hard lines and gasping breath. They pressed inside him deeply, leaning over him as they stretched him wide. 

“Oh, this…This is better.” They chuckled and nuzzled against Geralt’s jaw. They thrust in and out again and their eyes closed with the feeling of it.

“F-fuck- Yes it is.” Geralt groaned. His toes were curling in the air where they bounced from Jaskier’s thrusts. “I feel like you’re taking me apart.” He turned his face to catch Jaskier’s mouth.

Jaskier hummed into the kiss and set to a relentless rhythm. Everything was slick—they could feel their precum making the glide easier. Geralt was tight and hot, and with him splayed like this, Jaskier could control the depth, the angle, and pace… They felt intoxicated by the heady scent surrounding them. 

“You’re going to ruin me, Geralt…” They gasped breathlessly and thrust into him hard, their balls slapping against the firm curve of Geralt’s ass. 

“Fuck, Jaskier, There, right there!” Geralt’s thighs were tensing and untensing against Jaskier’s belly and chest with the effort to try and push back into Jaskier’s thrusts. “I’m close-” The words were choked out. Geralt sounded like he was already ruined. 

Jaskier groaned again and pulled themself up so they could watch where their bodies connected, see their cock sliding in and out of Geralt’s tight ass. Geralt was hard against their belly, leaking and twitching with each thrust.

“Fuck, you’re so gorgeous like this—just for me…” They reached down and wrapped their fist around Geralt’s cock, gave it a couple of slow strokes, “I want to see you come, Geralt, while I ride your ass…”

Geralt’s brows pinched together as he watched his lover. He looked down with Jaskier to watch his lover’s cock enter him over and over. And then Jaskier’s hand was on him and his whole body tightened. His head fell back, exposing his long neck. “Jaskier- Jaskier” the second time he said their name, it came out more of a howl as he came hard, spurting up and over his own chest. 

Jaskier’s thrusts sped up as they watched, they couldn’t help themself. They had felt Geralt’s balls tighten before he came, spilling over their hand as his cum shot up and over himself—what a sight. Their breath came raggedly as they tightened their grip on Geralt’s ankle and drove into him, filling their senses with wet, hot, pulses. Geralt tightened around them with the aftershocks of his orgasm and Jaskier groaned.

“Fuck, Ger—I’m…” They didn’t get to voice the rest of their intention before they tipped over into their own orgasm, coming deep into Geralt’s ass with a shudder, “Ah, fuck…” They gasped and bucked over Geralt, their hand pinned between them both as they fell onto their lover’s chest panting. Their hips twitched forward a few more times, and Jaskier rested their forehead in between Geralt’s pectorals. 

Geralt wrapped his arms tightly around Jaskier’s shoulders and kissed the top of Jaskier’s head. His legs shook as he lowered them so he could wrap those around his lover too. “That's… Very wet.” he told Jaskier with a rumbly chuckle. He ran his fingers through Jaskier’s hair.

“Mmm. Yes, that’s because you’re extremely hot and milked me for every last drop…” Jaskier explained before pushing themself up and gently pulling out—resulting in more wet. “I don’t believe my quilts were made with this activity in mind.” They drew back but put a hand on Geralt’s chest when their wolf tried to follow them. “Just stay lying down… I’ll get you something to clean up.” They pressed a kiss to his lips to quell any rebuttal and slid off the bed. They pulled on their pants again and padded over to his kitchen to grab a cloth.

Jaskier could hear the frown in Geralt's tone even when they weren't looking at them. "Why. Are you putting those back on?" At least he was being a good Wolf and stayed laying down where he was told to.

Jaskier wrung out the cloth and laughed, “Not all of us find such comfort in nudity, you wild beast,” They also grabbed a couple sticks of dried venison, a cup of water, and padded back over to the bed. “Some of us have to at least pretend to be civilized…” They bit off a corner of the jerky, feeling ravenous after their activity and held out the rest of it to Geralt. They smirked and started wiping at the cum on their lover’s hairy chest before it dried.

Geralt took the jerky and sniffed it, frowning. “Whats this?” He asked, turning the jerky over in his fingers, inspecting it. To his credit, he was staying very still to allow Jaskier to clean him up. He looked up at Jaskier in question.

“It used to be a deer,” Jaskier smiled, “and if you like it, I can make more out of the deer you brought me.” 

Geralt didn’t take his eyes off of Jaskier as he took a bite. He made a face though and moved to spit the bite out.

“Don’t you dare, Wolf.” Jaskier said flatly. They weren’t interested in cleaning up that particular mess.

Geralt let a thin growl and swallowed, still making a face of disgust. “The deer outside is fresh. I will eat that.”

Jaskier took the rest of the jerky from him and handed him the water instead. They folded the cloth into a square that they left on Geralt’s naked thigh with a happy little smile curling the corner of their lip. 

“I have a question about that… I mean, if you’re going to be staying here with me, I should try to find about your… Wolf culture,” They made a face as if to say they weren’t quite sure what to call it, “Because as the grisly murder suggests, there might be a few things that may not particularly jive with human culture. And though I am certainly one to reject many things about the expectations of the general populous; I am, in fact, human. So…” They paused grinning a little wider at Geralt, “How often do you… Wolf, exactly? And why did I find you as a human? Where did you learn to speak and—”

Geralt’s tongue wet his lips a moment as he stared at Jaskier, his eyes dark and intent. It wasn’t the first time that Jaskier felt like prey under that gaze. “Do you want to see it? The change? Because I’m ravenous and that Deer smells inviting.”

Jaskier’s eyes went wide (well, wider) at the offer. “...Here?”

“Unless you’d rather I change in the woods? Want to go for a walk Little Red Rider?” Geralt’s grin was sharp and didn’t look quite human. 

“I—“ Jaskier honestly didn’t mind, but Geralt’s expression made that heat prickle at the base of his spine. Even though they ought to be thoroughly exhausted, “I’ll grab my cloak.” 

The woods behind the stable were dense enough—indeed, Jaskier’s cottage was the closest to the dark forest of any of the village, and made sense for the herbalist to be close to where they would gather… But it was also proving useful to conceal the nature of the puppy that had followed them home.

The sun was still out, and Jaskier remarked on that, having heard contrary facts about those rumoured to change from humans to creatures—werewolves, they had heard them called, but they’d also noted how Geralt did not like to be called that. 

“Do you still feel compelled to change every full moon at least?” They queried further, wondering if any of the tales were true. 

Geralt nodded. “Though I am more like the ‘beast’ you call me when I am compelled to change by the moon.” Geralt admitted. “I resemble something between a man and a wolf. I have no choice but to change then. The wolf you have seen me as is what I change into on will.” 

“Does it… does it hurt?” Jaskier asked, looking concerned beneath their red cowl, “Do you have the ability to choose your own will? That might be rude… but I mean, I’ve heard stories—”

“It does hurt a little.” Geralt admitted. “But it's the sweetest pain I’ve ever felt… Well until you claimed me today.” He shot Jaskier a grin.

A little heat stained Jaskier’s cheeks just remembering it, and they shifted their stance and looked around a bit. They hadn’t walked far, but they’d reached a small ring of trees studded with boulders, and Jaskier hopped up to sit atop one, legs dangling. 

“Well then, Wolf…” They lifted their eyebrows in expectation, “What are you waiting for?”

Geralt reached up to take Jaskier’s chin in his fingers for a kiss before he was pulling off the night shirt he had been wearing. He took a few steps backwards and a ripple moved under his skin. It was grotesque and beautiful. Jaskier could see fur grow along skin and hear bones pop as they grew and shrank and found new positions under Geralt’s skin. 

His ears grew longer and moved up his head. Face elongated and teeth become sharp and deadly. Geralt was silent. If it hurt, he made no indication. It looked like it hurt though. Sounded like it hurt. Watching him was akin to watching a barn fire gone out of control. You couldn’t tear your gaze away despite it being a fearful sight.

But just as quickly as it started, the change was over and a large wolf stood before Jaskier. Seeing him this close, Jaskier could tell that he was a bit bigger than any normal wolf. And wolves tended to be large. Geralt lowered his head a little, ears angled forward as he watched for Jaskier’s reaction.

To his credit, Red Rider didn’t flinch, didn’t jump or run—in fact, their silence was accompanied by an awestruck wonder.

“It’s really you…” They breathed and slid off the rock, “I mean, obviously, but I wouldn’t have known to see… You look very different, Geralt.” Their lips finally cracked into a smile. 

Geralt’s head raised then, his form relaxing and he approached Jaskier. His tail wagged once as he pressed his forehead against Jaskier’s chest.

“Gosh, you’re big even like this…” Jaskier chuckled, losing their balance a little at the headbutt—Geralt nearly stood to their shoulders with his head raised, even on four legs. Jaskier felt a thrill of very human inadequacy travel down their spine and they swallowed. “Do you talk as a wolf or…?” Silence, “No, that wouldn’t make much sense, would it?”

Geralt let a small bark and his tail wagged a bit in answer. His head tilted to the side just a little before he nudged Jaskier again, sending them toppling back off his feet. Geralt was on them at once, giant paws on their shoulders as Geralt leaned down to lick from their collar bone to their cheek.

“Ah! Geralt!” Jaskier threw an arm up to try to stop the wet assault, and threw their Wolf a blue-eyed glare, only to have it soften a moment later when Jaskier’s fingers found their way into the scruff around his neck. Their hand went deeper into the fur than they had anticipated. “You’re so soft…”

Another soft growl sounded from Geralt and his nose nuzzled into Jaskier’s neck, sniffing there into the spot that Jaskier had learned was Geralt’s favorite. As Jaskier brought their hands up to stroke Geralt’s ears, they could feel the great wolf wiggle a little. A look down Geralt’s belly told Jaskier that his tail was wagging now.

“I still have so many questions…” Jaskier admitted and got up onto their knees to accommodate their desire to feel more of Geralt’s fur. Their arms reached up and around to feel along the lean muscles of his Wolf’s flanks, “Do you usually eat when you’re like this? How fast can you go… would you let me—“ They paused, his soft undercoat filled their tightening grip, “Could I ride you like this…?”

Geralt snorted and looked at them with a look that Jaskier could only describe as perturbed. He took the front of Jaskier’s shirt in his teeth, receiving a sharp delighted gasp in response. He laid down on his belly and pulled Jaskier towards him.

Jaskier’s eyebrows twitched upwards and they crawled close, regarding Geralt’s stoic amber gaze before they threw a leg over Geralt’s shoulders and clambered astride. 

Geralt was up underneath them in an instant, dashing forward, and it was only Jaskier’s tight grip in the Wolf’s mane that kept them from spilling back to the forest floor. 

Geralt ran swift and sure into the woods, moving past obstacles so much quicker and with more confidence than Pegasus could ever muster. He was able to scale rocks and leap off of them with ease. If Jaskier’s grip hurt him, Geralt made no indication that it did. He ran like he was made for it.

It seemed all too soon that they found their way back to the woods behind Jaskier’s home. Geralt didn’t bother waiting for his lover to get off of him before he went to the deer he had taken down and started to eat it.

“Fu-uuck,” Jaskier laughed as they tumbled over Geralt’s neck and landed over the deer in front of Geralt. They got a very close up view of the sharp teeth (oh, what sharp teeth) and big eyes (oh, what golden eyes) as Geralt tore and swallowed from the deer’s thigh. 

They stared for a moment, then gulped. 

“Save me some.” They demanded and received a guttural growl of assent.

Even if the Wolf would not eat it, Little Red Rider would make jerky anyways.


	4. Beware the Rumours and Revenge

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “I’m not bad. I’m naughty, there’s a difference, and the last time I checked, you weren’t complaining.” Jaskier grabbed Geralt’s arm and threaded their own through the crook of his elbow. “And I’m not the only one who’s drunk, Mister Wolf.”
> 
> Every Fairy Tale has its villainy, and it often comes from where you’d least expect. After their attempt to conceal Geralt’s identity from the village, would the Little Red Rider and their Big Bad Wolf be discovered?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And we’re back with more bread! Thanks for all the kudos, folx, I’m glad you’re loving it as much as we’ve been! We’re pretty much at the conclusion of the story with just one more chapter for you all next week; let us know what you thought of this story arc, Hmmmbo and I are dreaming up new stories in and out of canon and would love to know what you’re hunkering for next! Hope you like this chapter--Please be warned of the violence tags, as this one has a bit more than the others!

Geralt and Jaskier fell into a routine of what the Wolf considered domestic bliss. They woke with with the sun most days. They would get up to let out the chickens and Pegasus but inevitably find themselves tumbling back into bed together to simply cuddle or, more often, to ravage each other. Often, they didn’t find themselves getting up until much later in the morning. 

Geralt learned how to take care of the animals. He would often go out to let out Pegasus and the chickens before Jaskier even woke. Only to snuggle up to them in bed after. He knew now how to tell when vegetables were ready in the garden. Though tomatoes were weird. They were ripe when they were red but Jaskier also liked them green?

Geralt wasn’t fond of Tomatoes.

According to Jaskier, their chickens had never been safer. It was common for a few of them to be picked off by foxes or a stray coyote but they hadn’t lost any birds since Geralt ended up staying with them. Jaskier said that it was because Geralt was the most dangerous thing in the woods. That comment had made the wolf in Geralt sing.

Life on the farm was good but the town was another thing. He didn’t often accompany Jaskier further into town. He had a mysterious illness to uphold after all. Geralt though found that on the few times he had gone with Jaskier, He wasn’t so fond of it. The human smells were overwhelming, especially in the market. 

This was their second time at the Lyrical Swan, but their first after Jaskier had discovered Geralt’s love for bread and butter. He was onto his fourth freshly baked bun as Jaskier finished the last few bites of their own supper. They looked happy--even though they did complain about some of the villagers, there were people that Little Red liked, and people that liked Little Red, and Geralt was learning to sit a little more comfortably around them. It was still early, and only one other person had come in since them, but Jaskier had chatted with Josef amicably when they’d ordered, and Geralt had been able to use an ale to excuse his silence.

“I still think you look very nice in these…” Jaskier’s eyes sparked and they tapped the cuff of Geralt’s black tunic shirt. They’d found a few more skirts and loose robes among some of their grandmother’s winter storage and had insisted that he wear them--and had also made a very pretty face when they said please, “You have to admit, my old grannie had good taste.”

Honestly it was the please and the pretty face that had made Geralt give in to wearing the clothing. He had never liked wearing clothes and especially hated pants. Jaskier seemed more than happy to provide him with skirts instead. It was compliments like this that made Geralt continue to wear the clothing. Just seeing the look in Jaskier’s eyes when he got dressed felt worth it.

Right now he was wearing a thick wool kilt that was warm and pleasing. The shirt, however, was a bit tight across the chest. Geralt couldn’t help but wonder how big of a woman Jaskier’s grannie had been. It was a miracle he fit into her clothes at all. She must have been nice and plump. 

“With clothing to wear outside at least.” Geralt admitted. He still hated the nightshirts the woman had worn.

Jaskier smirked, and Geralt could tell they were holding their tongue with some comment, and sure enough, Josef appeared a moment later with a tray to pick up the empty plates.

“You two staying for another round, you think?” He asked, eyeing the levels of their glasses, and Jaskier threw a glance at Geralt with a grin.

“Yes…? Yes. Please. We’re celebrating today.” 

Geralt rose a brow at Jaskier but didn’t say a thing. Josef smiled at them both and asked the question on Geralt’s mind. “What are you celebrating?”

“The coronation of the King of the Faeries,” Jaskier laughed, then shook their head, “I found the cause of Geralt’s sickness--and also, possibly a remedy.” They raised their glass, spinning a tale as they went, “Which means that it’ll be up to you to decide to stay when you’re fully recovered. But as your… Herbalist… I can prescribe an extra round or two to wash down the good news.” They said the last to the Wolf next to him with a fond tone.

“If that's the case, I’ll break out some whiskey for the two of you.” Josef said with a wide smile. He patted Jaskier on the shoulder and meandered off. 

Geralt leveled Jaskier with a heated look. “You don’t think I'd stay once I’d… recovered?” He asked. He was a little surprised, especially after the lectures he had endured about going for runs in wolf form after sex. Geralt had learned quickly how to ‘stay’.

Jaskier’s smile turned a touch concerned, as if they’d misspoken. “Of course I think you’d stay… you’ve been saying little else, and I really don’t think you’d lie to me… No, I mean that I want people to know you’re staying with me. That you’re choosing to stay with me. Friends are happy to hear news like that.” Their eyes glittered blue and earnestly.

That caused the wolf to smile. "I see. Another custom of…. Yours then." He paused, taking in how damn cute Jaskier looked just then. Their eyes so big and blue. "Can I kiss you?" They hadn't touched much the few times they had been in public. Geralt didn't want to misstep. 

Jaskier hummed and nodded, Their nose touching Geralt’s even as they answered. “You can…” They held a hand onto Geralt’s forearm, “A small token of affection.” Their lips quirked with mischief.

Jaskier had barely gotten the words out when Geralt closed the space between them to press his mouth against theirs.. He was a good Wolf and kept it small. Short, but his tongue had slipped between Jaskier’s lips in that snort time and he gave a nip to that plump mouth before they parted.

Jaskier’s cheeks flushed and they stifled a small whine that made Geralt want to eat them whole.

“By the Three…” Jaskier huffed, “That was almost inappropriate.” The mischievous sparkle was still there in their eyes, even as they cleared their throat when Josef returned with another ale each and a few fingers worth of whiskey.

Geralt offered a small smile in thanks. He never smiled with his teeth when they were out. Especially when they were drinking. His teeth got too sharp apparently. “I think-” He started as he pulled the whisky towards himself for a sip. He hadn’t had it before and oh! It burned all the way down in the most delightful way. “That I like kissing you in public the most.”

Jaskier’s cheeks reddened further—almost enough to match their cloak, and Josef cast a fond congratulatory wink towards him and Jaskier before discretely moving to serve the other patron of the bar. Jaskier seemed pleased though, their lips curled into a small smile. 

“I think I like it too…” They admitted quietly, and Their foot nudged at Geralt’s under the table. “Cheers, to your health—and to showing off in public…?” They raised the large stein aloft towards his Wolf. 

Geralt’s smile wider for Jaskier and raised his stein. It was a human custom that Jaskier had taught him. A tradition he liked. He stretched out his free hand so his fingertips could touch Jaskier’s. The touch warmed him more than the whiskey in his belly.

They drank with their heads lowered, turned in towards each other, speaking in low tones with heated looks.Their touches under the table were a little more bold. Jaskier’s ankle was pressed up against Geralt’s calf and caressed him there now and then. 

By the time Geralt had consumed another glass of whiskey, Jaskier slid their fingers over the Wolf’s knuckles. Mischief danced in their eyes and he leaned closer still to speak. “I think we should head home and continue our celebration.”

“I think you are insatiable and brilliant.” Geralt agreed happily. When he stood though, Geralt discovered that he was quite drunk.

The alcohol must have had an effect on Jaskier too, but they appeared to have only gotten more shiny. Jaskier was all smiles as the meal was paid for and goodbyes were said (they still had ages before the curfew was coming up) and was walking backwards to be able to grin at Geralt as they departed from the Swan. 

“And I think that you are more than welcome to keep trying to satiate me in every way you can possibly imagine—ow!” Jaskier had run into something, someone in their backwards path, “...sorry” he apologized before turning around.

“Watch it, bloody tramp...You don’t own the road.” Allan sneered at them.

Geralt immediately reached out to pull Jaskier away from the repugnant man. His hand curled on the collar of Jaskier’s doublet. He tried not to growl or bare his teeth and settled with a smoldering vicious glare.

“Oh, go suck an egg.” Jaskier rolled his eyes, emboldened by the ale and by the very solid Wolf man holding them up. “It was a mistake. Better yet, go drink a brew and eat a stew and then go suck an egg.” Apparently this was a much funnier thing to say when drunk, and Jaskier giggled at the sing-song quality of the rhyme before Allan made a sour face and brushed past them. Jaskier put a hand on Geralt’s chest, feeling his snark bubbling under the surface. “Let’s just go, Geralt.”

“Yes Geralt. Take the little whore home.” Allan said under his breath.

This time, Allan’s comment made Geralt stop in his tracks. He turned then, the growl leaving his throat before he could snatch it back. He bared his teeth a moment before realizing what he was doing and closed his mouth. “Fuck off.” he ground out and put an arm around Jaskier’s waist to guide them away.

Jaskier was very good at distracting Geralt from that point on, but he did notice the dark look they received from Allan before he turned his back. 

The evening sun was slanting through the trees of the woods, casting long shadows across the road back towards town, and Jaskier tugged at Geralt’s hand as they walked, pointing out their favourite spots for harvesting plants along their route. 

“These will be the last of the lupins before winter sets in properly… We could get some seeds and plant some to come up in the spring by the cottage…” They let a hand drift along a tall purple stalk, and then turned to smile at Geralt, “They’re like a colourful Wolf’s tail...wouldn’t you say?”

“Is that why they have that name?” Geralt asked. He didn’t really care about the answer. He was too enchanted by Jaskier’s smile. Everything about them kept Geralt riveted to them. He wasn’t a wolf any more. He was a moth to Jaskier’s flame. He smiled back at his love as he jotted away the location in his brain so he could come back and bring Jaskier some of the purple flowers for seeds later.

“It’s the nicer thought about it’s name…” Jaskier grinned again and pulled Geralt close to them, their cheeks pink from the drink and their elation, “But I already have a Wolf enough, though I cannot say what might happen to me if I were to try to make your tail match the flowers.” they whispered conspiratorially; they stared at Geralt’s lips for a beat before they leaned in to kiss him again. 

Geralt kissed Jaskier back before pulling back with a little alarm. “You wouldn’t”

“No, I wouldn’t… not unless I were very bad. Or drunk. Or both…” Jaskier giggled again and pulled Geralt’s arms around them.

Geralt pushed Jaskier playfully in the shoulder, letting a little giggle of his own. “You’re drunk now! And you’re always bad!” He now had visions of waking up with purples in his tail. 

“I’m not bad. I’m naughty, there’s a difference,” Jaskier argued, their tongue poking out from between their lips, “And the last time I checked, you weren’t complaining.” Geralt thought he had heard something but Jaskier grabbed his arm and threaded their own through the crook of his elbow. “And I’m not the only one who’s drunk, Mister Wolf.”

Geralt was hopelessly distracted again. He nuzzled his nose into Jaskier’s neck, scenting them. They smelled of sweat and whiskey. He hummed. It was a very good combination. “I’m not drunk.”Iit was a blatant lie. He let his teeth graze Jaskier’s neck.

“Well we both know that’s not true…” Jaskier admonished, but they tilted their head to allow Geralt a better angle on their neck. They hummed. “But I do know I want to get you home before things get too much further out of hand… Anybody could walk and find us here upon the road…”

“Out of hand?” Geralt asked. He was far too distracted by Jaskier’s scent. “You mean I can’t ravage you right here and right now?”

“Ughnn… no…” Jaskier’s jaw flexed and they didn’t sound one hundred percent sure about their conviction, but they pushed Geralt’s face from their neck with a couple fingers under his chin, “That may be too much for this small mountain village to ask to understand…”

“You are no fun.” Geralt rasped against Jaskier’s ear. He had quickly found that he loved fucking Jaskier outside the best. They would often go for walks into the woods together where Jaskier would collect herbs and Geralt would lope around as a wolf and stretch his legs. They enjoyed lazy fucks in beds of moss there. But ‘town’ and other humans made for impromptu love making harder.

Jaskier grabbed the collar of Geralt’s tunic and tugged him away again, a light sparkling in their eyes. “And you call me insatiable…” They tried to pull away quickly, as if they thought it at all possible to outrun Geralt.

With a little whoop that sounded altogether too canine, Geralt took chase. They tussled a little. All Geralt could smell was Jaskier and the night. He felt that it was safe to slip his form and become a wolf. He moved ahead of Jaksier and pulled off his tunic with a laugh, tossing it at Jaskier who caught it with their face, causing them to stumble as they scrabbled it from their eyes with an echoing laugh. 

Geralt’s kilt came next. He changed as Jaskier scooped up the woolen clothing. They chased after the snow white wolf once they regained his footing, opting for the forest path to the cottage, their joy concealed in the golden greens of the towering trees.

~

Glinting after them was a darker observation, and a sharp smile that would make a wolf’s hackles raise had he seen it.

Watching the pale stranger with Jaskier was enough to piss Allan off but seeing them act so intimately? He had been in Jaskier’s life since they were children. He had spent years trying to impress them. And then this stranger stumbles out of the woods ill and suddenly he captures Jaskier’s heart?

There had been moments since he had heard of Geralt that had given Allan suspicions that Geralt was not who he said he was. Tonight had just been full of them. The animalistic growl that the pale man had given him in the tavern. The teeth that looked a little too long. He was supposed to be sick but here he was flirting and playing in the streets…

The investigation over Colby’s death had gone stale. Allan’s inner circle were afraid that the answer would never come. That Colby would never get closure. But Allan had his theories. Theories that revolved around a strange man who came from the woods with a mysterious illness. Who had a strange accent and even stranger personality ticks.

Growling at threats. Smiling with a closed mouth. Strange yellow eyes. But it was the timing too. Geralt had shown up very close to when Colby died. He died on the night they had taken Jaskier’s red cloak and then it had been mysteriously returned to him. It was all so convenient.

Despite Allan’s theories, He wasn’t prepared to see Geralt’s change. The grotesque way his body transformed. Skin sliding over bones popping into place. Allan had to press a hand to his mouth to keep himself from vomiting. He had suspected Geralt, yes, but never in his wildest nightmares had thought that HE was the beast that had killed his friend.

And Jaskier? Jaskier stood there and watched. Laughed and chased the wolf into the trees as if the giant white wolf had not just been his lover and was a sheep dog instead. 

Allan did retch then, turning and throwing up dinner and other stomach bile. The person he had longed to bed for so long was content in bestiality. Choosing this killer, this monster instead of being with him. Not if he could help it… Allan stood and wiped his mouth, staring off after where the last shades of red cloak had blinked through the trees. Oh no. That beast of Jaskier’s had hell to pay and Allan would be sure to deliver it.

~

A bright sheen coated the forest canopy, hovering between frost and dew in the late-autumn morning. The mountains were purple and snow-capped in the distance, a reminder of the impending snow, and the sun was a pale kind of warmth, sending all of the forest inhabitants into gathering mode; including Little Red Rider and their Wolf, who had risen into the bright cool morning with every intention of gathering some mushroom caps for a stew, but Red’s basket was currently forgotten and Red Rider was currently on their knees with the Wolf’s woolen skirt bunched up over his thickly-muscled thighs. 

Bright blue eyes sparkled with desire and Jaskier licked a long stripe up Geralt’s cock.

Geralt’s hand cupped Jaskier’s jaw with a gentleness that one would not expect from a wolf. His head was tipped back against the tree that Jaskier had backed him into. “Fuck Jaskier- stop teasing.” He gasped.

“It’s not teasing if I have every intention of--” Jaskier’s words were cut off by the decisive action of sliding Geralt’s cock in between their open lips. They hummed the rest of his words, tickling and vibrating along the length of hard flesh. Geralt was tense underneath their touch, deferring to gentleness still. Red Rider’s hand gripped around him, making up for the distance to the base of his cock that their mouth could not currently reach. Blue eyes flashed upwards as if to ask him if he was enjoying himself.

Red was rewarded with a throaty moan. His hips trembled upwards into Jaskier’s minstrations. “So good Jaskier.” He gasped, bare toes curling in the moss. He stroked his fingers through Jaskier’s hair and the feeling almost made the human purr.

Jaskier paid special attention to the prominent vein on the underside of Geralt’s cock, pressing a pointed tongue along the length of it that they could reach all the way to wiggle underneath the head, all being made slick with their saliva and the salty droplets that leaked from they slid their mouth back to full again, a sharper swallow than previously. Their hands smoothed back and around to hold onto the flexing curve of Geralt’s ass. 

“Mmm…” They hummed again, feeling a pulse of their own arousal begin to make their own red trousers a little stickier.

“You- Fuck, you’re really not holding back.” Geralt gasped. His thumb swept along Jaskier’s bottom lip and hooked into the corner of their mouth. “I can smell how turned on you are. How wet you are for me.” He let another groan at a particularly lovely suck. “If you want me to last long enough to fuck you, I’ll need you to slow down.”

Jaskier’s rhythm included a low chuckle, and they did not slow down; in fact, they opened their mouth a little wider and sunk down another couple fingers’ depth. They were concentrating, and the extra focus allowed them to swallow a little, compressing the tip of Geralt’s cock in the back of their throat.

“Nngghh- A-aahh!” Geralt’s head thunked against the tree trunk in pleasure. “You’re going to make me come, Red-”

Jaskier closed their eyes and their hips jumped forward at the need in Geralt’s tone. 

“Mmmfph…” they hummed eloquently, and reached their tongue down to play with the corded vein again with the tip of their tongue. Their eyelashes fluttered open again as they descended again. .

Geralt’s fingers tightened in Jaskier’s hair and he pressed his lover closer still as he came in thick spurts down Jaskier’s throat. “Fuck Jaskier- Fuuuck.”

Jaskier sucked, resuming their rhythm to match Geralt’s sharp thrusts. their cheeks and throat bulged as they let Geralt’s orgasm fuck their throat. They moaned and squeezed their hand down the front of their trousers to relieve some of the pressure on their own cock. 

As Geralt came down from his high, He fell to his knees before Jaskier and pulled them into a needy kiss. “How do you want me to pleasure you, Jaskier?” he asked. “Anything you want.” His hand pushed Jaskier’s hand off of their cock so that Geralt could stroke them through their pants instead.

“I’m close…” Jaskier admitted sheepishly, their cheeks flushed and brows drawn together, “I love hearing you talk to me when my mouth is...full—“ they would have continued, but their hips canted into Geralt’s touch and they could only gasp instead. 

“Hmm” Geralt smiled and slid two fingers into Jaskier’s mouth. He leaned in to kiss the corner of their mouth, letting his mouth drag open to their ear. “What kinds of things do you like hearing me say hmm? How much I like to fuck you? How it feels every time you are under me and I’m re-claiming what's mine. MY Mate, MY Bitch.” He let his teeth drag over Jaskier’s neck.

Jaskier’s mouth was greedy from Geralt’s fingers and their hips gave a little stutter into Geralt’s palm. They whined. “Ah-huh…” They confirmed, nodding their head in response to Geralt’s words in the same rhythm that they humped his hand.

“Gon—na…” 

Geralt’s deft fingers pulled at the ties doing up Jaskier’s pants. When their cock was free, he dipped down to pull their arousal into his mouth with a strong suck. His fingers, still in Jaskier’s mouth, pressed down against their tongue.

That proved too much for Little Red Rider, who came with a cry into Geralt’s mouth. Teeth found their way around Geralt’s fingers, champing down onto the webbing between finger and thumb. 

Geralt let a growl around Jaskier’s cock as he swallowed down their cum. When they were finished, Geralt pulled off and took Jaskier’s face in his hands to kiss them. “I love it when you bite me like that. My feral mate.”

Jaskier sighed happily as Geralt nuzzled at them, and felt their cheeks blush again. 

“You must bring out the wildness in me too, you Beast…” They smiled and kissed him back. They tucked themself away as delicately as they could, the impromptu forest liaison left them feeling a little sensitive and the wind was chilly. “Because now I still have mushrooms to pick for our lunch… But all I can think of is the feast I’ve just had.” 

“For your lunch,” Geralt ran a thumb over the redness of Jaskier’s cheek. “I don’t like mushrooms.” He wrinkled his nose in distaste. “I’ll find my own lunch.”

“Bring me back a couple of rabbits, please.” Jaskier turned their head to kiss the heel of Geralt’s hand then stepped back to cast about for their basket, “I’ll make a rabbit pie—and maybe you’ll like it if I make the crust out of bread…” 

Geralt visibly perked at the promise of his favorite treat. “Why not make rabbit stew with a LOAF of bread?” Jaskier knew that secretly Geralt just wanted some bread with honey for dessert.

“I’ll see what I can be convinced of, Wolf.” They grinned and held out his basket. “Put your clothes in here… I’ll carry them for you while you hunt.”

Geralt stripped, doing as asked and placed the garments into the basket. He seemed so much more at home naked and in the woods. Especially when he started to change and take on his wolven form. He paused just long enough to lick Jaskier’s cheek before bounding off into the woods for the hunt.

Jaskier watched him until they couldn’t see or hear any more signs of him and tucked the clothes deeper into their basket. They’d wend their back back towards the cottage looking for signs of mushrooms. They wanted to harvest a few different types to dry out for some powders as well… They smiled and licked their lips—maybe now they’d be able to focus long enough to get what they needed. 

They kept just off the path, looking in the damp scattered leaf litter for the different coloured caps and frills, gently tucking the non-edible ones into a leather pouch to keep them separate from the ones they planned to eat. They had gathered quite a few, and their basket was scented with the woody aroma. 

A few more and they’d be good to head home and start baking. They had a starter for some dough, so it wouldn’t take too long to put together a loaf for their wolf. They laughed to themself, their tone joyous in the mid-morning air. They reached the edge of the forest, the crossroads of the path where they could turn up their lane… But they weren’t alone. 

“Do you oft sleep with dogs or do you only fancy wilder beasts?” Allan stood just off the path to Jaskier’s little cottage, his arms crossed over his chest and a mean look on his face. “Like wolves.”

Jaskier startled a little, and the sudden question froze them to the spot. They faltered and glanced around, but it seemed Allan Selkirk was alone. 

“I don’t know what you mean-” They attempted, only to be cut off. 

Alan glared hard, his eyes analyzing Jaskier as he moved closer. “I know what you do with that stranger.” He said. “I know what he is.” His eyes fell momentarily to Jaskier’s basket.

Jaskier felt a chill run down their spine, then a surge of heat. 

“You rarely know anything, actually. Evidently don’t know when to keep out of someone else’s business…” They gripped their basket and attempted to walk by Allan along the path. 

Allan reached out and gripped Jaskier’s bicep as they tried to pass. “I know more than you think about your wolf in sheep's clothing.” His tone was barely a growl. Not like the ones that Geralt could produce but nasty tone nonetheless.

Jaskier grit their teeth. It seemed Allan had figured something out somehow and was going to be a problem. 

Potentially a very large one. 

“Allan, Geralt isn’t dangerous…”

“And if I were able to ask Colby? What would HE say about how dangerous your pet is?” Alan spat the word pet. Like he had tasted something foul and wanted to be rid of it. 

Jaskier didn’t move, despite Allan’s fingers digging into their arm. They wondered if they could take him one on one. He’d never seen Allan Selkirk fight anything, but the strength he was using just in this simple arm hold was enough to make Jaskier pause. 

“What do you want?” They asked, realizing that if Allan had it all figured out, truly, he would have just gone to Councillor Boe and the town hall… No, it was likely something more insidious. 

Allan actually sighed then. “What do you THINK I want, Jaskier?” At first, Jaskier couldn’t fathom what Allan could possibly want from them. His grip flexed on Jaskier’s arm and it sent a chill through their spine. They hadn’t ever been friends. They’d known of him in their childhood, but had never really even talked to him. Not since-

And then it all made sense. Why Allan had started tailing after Robert and Colby. Why he had been such a hateful prick to Jaskier after all these years. It was almost surprising that it had taken Jaskier so long to figure it out. Years ago, when they were still young, Allan had asked Jaskier to the may day celebration. An invitation to the festival often would mark the beginning of a courtship. 

And Jaskier had refused, crushing at the time on the Woodsman’s son. 

They hadn’t thought anything of it at the time, May Day had come and gone and Jaskier had moved onto another dalliance—but had also started paying more serious attention to the woods, thanks to their Grandmother. 

Jaskier wrenched their arm free of Allan’s grip.

“Look, Allan… I don’t want you to get the wrong idea. If you’re looking to talk—”

“I’m looking to give your head a shake!” Allan replied, making up the difference of Jaskier’s retreat to remain in their space. “You are out here on the edge of the damn woods fucking a werewolf when you COULD be in town being provided for!”

Jaskier didn’t like what he was implying. 

“Provided for?” They snorted, “You think I need providing for? I’ve been looking after myself for years, Allan, without the help of anyone after my Grandmother passed… I don’t recall you being very helpful, quite the opposite, actually.” They spat, getting angry. Allan just moved closer and closer.

“You never gave me a chance to be helpful, Jaskier.” Allan countered. He approached now with hands held up and looking as if he was trying to appear friendly. “I wanted to help…” He reached out and stroked the collar of Jaskier’s red cloak. ‘I remember when your Grandmother gave this to you.” He fiddled with the stitching alone the inner edge, “How proud she was of you then. And now you’re out here doing…” He made a retching sound, “Engaging in bestiality! What would your grandmother have said about that?”

Jaskier went red—how dare he invoke their Grandmother like that? Geralt literally wore their Granny’s clothes and they was pretty sure if she had a problem with it, she would have found a way to get back over to this side to give her say…

“You had plenty of chances to help—every time Robbert Stone’s fist left a ham-shaped bruise on me!” Jaskier accused, “But you just watched, like a coward.”

“I tried!” Allan replied. “I talked to him all the time about treating you better. Just because you didn’t see- Auugh!” He threw his hands in the air in frustration. “ It doesn’t matter. It’s in the past. What matters is the here and now.”

Jaskier stared at him, he had to be stupid, “And what if I don’t want anything to do with you here and now?”

Allan’s look grew a bit darker and his mouth drew out into a thin line. “Then I tell everyone about exactly who and what you’ve been doing out here. How Colby stole your cloak only for him to die the same night and for you to get it back the day after. How the man who sleeps in your bed is the one who killed him. That he can take the form of the biggest damn wolf I’ve ever seen.”

Jaskier’s blood chilled. Geralt was a Wolf, whose nature it had been to kill that night; but the menace of the town’s justice system may not see it so simply in nature. Retribution for Colby Belcher’s death could be swift and deadly. 

“Geralt is more a man than you’ll ever be, Allan,” Jaskier bit, “and he’s a Wolf.” 

“Ah…” Allan said softly. “So you admit it? You really are out here fucking that beast?” He shook his head. “Thats disgusting Jaskier. A fucking MONSTER. You really think you can tame him? That he won’t turn around and eat you as soon as the winter months grow lean? I almost feel sorry for you, Buttercup.”

“I’ve told you not to call me that!” Jaskier snapped, advancing a step towards him, “You’ve got a choice, Selkirk, to either leave me the fuck alone or I can knock your teeth in right now… Robbert Stone’s fists aren’t around to stop me from doing it.” If violence and threats were the only language Allan was going to speak in, Jaskier would try communicating in kind. 

Allan gave Jaskier a thin sad smile. “You have two choices too, Red. Send your wolf back to the woods and come marry me. Or I will tell everyone what you two have been up to and you can watch them hunt down and kill your monster.”

“If you think that is any kind of way to propose to someone, you’re more of an idiot than I thought.” Jaskier bared his teeth, channeling Geralt, “And if you want to find out what I’ve learned as a Wolf’s mate about tearing someone limb from limb keep fucking talking…” Their fingers clenched and they advanced on Allan again, a murderous glint to their angry gaze. 

Allan took a step back then. “You’ll regret this, Buttercup.” He snarled, taking another step back “You best say goodbye to your beast. He won’t be breathing for much longer.” and with that, Allan turned tail and jogged away. Coward indeed.

Jaskier’s pulse was racing, and so were their thoughts. Allan Selkirk may not be up to fighting them, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t dangerous. 

Shit. 

Jaskier broke into a run to get home to the cottage. Geralt would go there when he finished hunting, surely, and Jaskier had to reckon how quickly Allan would rouse an angry mob, and they didn’t really want to be around to find out…

~

Geralt was pleased with himself on his way back to the small cottage. He had three rabbits in his jaws and a pheasant. As he approached the clearing where the little farm sat, He moved closer to the ground, keeping eyes and ears open for visitors. It was only when he felt it was safe that he moved to scratch his paw at the back door of the cottage to be let in. he sat there with his bounty in his mouth and waited, absently hoping for ear skritches for his efforts.

He heard clamouring inside, heard Jaskier swear. He scratched again, more insistently, and the door rattled on its hinges. 

“Fuck—!” Geralt heard from within and then Jaskier was at the back door, looking decidedly more anxious than when Geralt had left them. “Oh gods, Geralt… Hurry in!” They sounded relieved and worried all at once. 

The inside of the cottage was chaotic; several of Jaskier’s drawers of herbal ingredients were strewn across the counter, the wardrobe flung open and the beginnings of a travel roll, hastily piled in the center of the space. 

Geralt laid his bounty down on the hearth and moved out of Jaskier’s way to change. It wasn’t until he was on two legs that he approached his mate. “Jaskier… What's going on?” He asked, taking in all of the chaos. The air smelled sour with Jaskier’s anxiety. He could feel his Mate’s distress like a heavy quilt over his head. Something was very wrong.

“Allan Selkirk somehow found out you’re a wolf and I fully expect him to raise some army to try to force you out. But we’re going to leave before that can happen… So I’m taking everything that I need and—“

“Fuck!” Geralt ran his fingers through his hair. “Jaskier. I should go. I could go back to the woods for a few weeks, wait for everyone to calm down before I come back to you-”

“Good idea, yes. You go on ahead and I’ll catch up. You’ll probably be able to track me better than I you, so if you go now—”

“Jaskier.” Geralt said firmly, trying to capture their attention. “Winter is coming. Where would we go?”

“To Grandmother’s… In the woods beyond the mountain pass.” It seems they’d given it a lot of thought already. They crossed the cupboards under the counter and started pulling out their contents, looking for something within the jumble. “She insisted on staying there over the winter in the years before she passed… It should still be able to keep us for the season.”

Geralt was quiet as he watched Jaskier move around the small room. “You like it here though.” He said gently.

Jaskier shook their head, grabbing a few things out of an amassed pile: a wrap of fur hide, a small decorated box, a sturdy hunting knife in a leather sheath. 

“I stay here. I also go from here… That’s always been the way.” They placed the items into one of the travel sacks and crossed again, this time to the preserves, “And I can’t stay here without you. I won’t.”

Geralt’s breath hitched at that. Jaskier was willing to leave their people for HIM. Geralt was a lone wolf. He lived apart from his kind but Jaskier didn’t. They weren’t, but here they were, packing up their whole life, for Geralt. He crossed the room in three wide strides so he could take Jaskier’s face into his hands for a deep passionate kiss. He wanted to tell Jaskier in that kiss how much he had come to care for them, how much he-

Jaskier shook themself out of it with an exasperated huff and pushed past Geralt to rifle through the drawers by the bed. 

“I don’t know how much time we have—pack me the dried meat and the jars of onion and fruit preserves… Just the top shelf, I won’t have room for more than that,” They cringed and looked around at Geralt with upturned eyebrows, “...Please.”

“Jaskier-”

And then they returned to grabbing the keepsakes that were the most important, a flurry of hasty (and harsh) decisions. 

The sun was into evening, and Jaskier had started to sweat. 

“I don’t know! I could ask Josef to look after it but there’s no—“ his voice was pitched with anxiety..

“Jaskier, Stop!” Geralt said putting a growl and alpha into his tone. He needed them to be still for just a moment so he could think.

Jaskier paused (which was a start) and for a second just breathed. “It won’t matter, in the end, it won’t. So I’m just going to leave it—“ they started again. 

Geralt moved again to put his hands on Jaskier’s shoulders. “We can always come back for things after.” He said. “Jaskier-” He put a hand on their chin and turned their face so they could look at eachother in the eyes. “We will get through this. We will be ok.” Geralt genuinely believed this and hoped that his calm would help soothe Jaskier’s anxiety.

Jaskier took a moment, looked as if they’d really heard the words, and their shoulders relaxed minutely. “I know…” they whispered, “It’s just going to be easier when it’s all done…” A nervous chuckle accompanied the bright blue gaze.

Geralt let his thumbs stroke over Jaskier’s cheekbones and he leaned in for one more kiss. “Are you certain that you want to leave with me? You will be leaving everyone you know behind.”

“I know more things and people than are in this town, Geralt. You’re not the first mythical Beast I’ve come across…” They smirked and squirmed out of Geralt’s grasp again; some of the anxiety assuaged, but still flustered, “And likely won’t be the last, either. Help me close these up. I think this is everything.” 

Geralt nodded and moved to do as he was asked. His heart was thrumming as he brought them to his mate. “I love you Jaskier. I will keep you safe.” God help him, It had only been a month but Geralt had killed for Jaskier. He would do far worse for them. He knew in that moment that he would do anything for them.

“I--I love you too, Geralt.” Jaskier answered, only faltering from the suddenness of the declaration, and the corners of their mouth plucked up into a small smile, “I know… I know.” A moment of tenderness washed over them and they brought their fingertips to the bow of Geralt’s lips, ocean eyes entranced by the soft plush pink. Then they nodded and picked up the pack; fully loaded. “Now can we try to get out of here before the shitstorm?”

A literal storm had also been brewing outside, and dark clouds scattered the horizon and had obliterated the last hope of the sunset. The wind had picked up a bit and changed direction, now blowing down from the mountains with a high whistle that whipped dead leaves off the autumn trees. 

Pegasus whinnied from the stable as Jaskier brought the travel pack over to the hitching post. They could probably sense the urgency as well--maybe that would make them go faster…

“Should I change?” Geralt asked. “I could take up the rear and keep an eye out for danger?”

Jaskier swung their red cloak up over their shoulders in a practiced flourish and checked their belt for all the gear they’d packed, looking like they were running over a checklist in their mind.

“Not a bad idea… But I don’t want you too far. Especially since Allan knows what you look like in your Wolf form…”

Geralt nodded, reaching out to steal one final kiss. He pulled Jaskier close to his chest for a moment. “I will keep you in earshot.” 

Jaskier reached up to return the embrace, wrapping their arms up and over Geralt’s shoulders. The cape dragged alongside and there was a sudden sharp stab from along the hem across Geralt’s chest.

Geralt hissed, lifting his fingers to the scrape. It wasn’t deep but it burned. The red on Geralt’s fingertips looked so bright and stark against his pale skin. He looked up to Jaskier’s chest and then reached out to take the fabric in his hand. Something flashed there, bright and silver and a shiver went through Geralt’s frame. “Where did this come from?”

Jaskier’s eyebrows drew together, they didn’t put it there, clearly.

“What is it?” Jaskier asked, plucking the cape from Geralt’s hand and removing the pin--it was a crudely cast silver wolf, its open jaws filed down to a razor sharp edge. Jaskier looked from it to the scratch along Geralt’s chest. They sniffed it.

“...It’s been coated in something…” They said, the blood draining from the face. “What is it, Geralt?”

Geralt was sure that he looked paler than normal. “It's silver, Jaskier… Coated with Wolfsbane.” This was not good. Not good at all. He had never actually been in contact with it but all wolves knew what it smelled like. 

Jaskier gulped. “I think… I think Allan put that on me at the crossroads.” They whispered softly. “I… Does it hurt, Geralt?”

“It's fine.” Geralt lied. He didn’t want to worry them any further. Not until they were both safe.

Jaskier looked like they were about to speak contrary to that when a noise and light could be seen in the growing dim of the path towards the town.

“...Shit. We’ve been too long.” Jaskier swore under their breath and their worried eyes darted between Geralt (naked and possibly not ‘fine’ as he stated) and the oncoming torches. “You should go. I can probably talk my way out of it.”

“I will stay within earshot.” Geralt promised. “If I feel you’re unsafe…” He didn’t say what he would do. They both knew that he would kill every single one of them to keep Jaskier safe.

“Go, Beast!” Jaskier admonished, their eyes longing. 

Geralt gave Jaskier one final kiss before he changed into wolf form. He bounded into the woods, finding a few boulders to hide behind. From there he could lay low and watch what was happening without being seen. All he could do now was wait and watch.

~

There were two men leading the crowd. At first, Jaskier couldn’t make out who it was but as they drew closer, it became clear. It was Allan, of course. With him though, was Councilor Boe. It was disappointing. She and Jaskier had always gotten along well. She didn’t look angry though. More worried. Sad even. There was hope there that things would not go as badly as they could.

Jaskier had pulled Pegasus from the stable, tied them to the hitching post. There was a chance that they could just leave, and if it was possible, they’d like to do it sooner rather than later.

The crowd stopped at the edge of the garden, and Councillor Boe stepped forward.

“Jaskier Rider, there are some allegations against you that we must talk about.” 

Jaskier clipped Pegasus’ bridle, testing the snugness. 

“I suppose I don’t have much of a choice?”

“Not really, Jaskier.” Boe sighed. The crowd behind surged.

“Where’s the beast you’re hiding, Red?”

“Murdered--”

“--talk of Werewolves--”

“Bloody unnatural…”

Jaskier clenched their jaw.

“And what has Allan raised in allegations against me, Councillor?” They asked, as calmly as they could.

Boe turned to the crowd. “Enough! All of you, go home.” Boe turned back to Jaskier. She looked tired. Older. 

The crowd did not disperse. 

“He tells me that you are hiding the killer here. That he is a shape shifter. That yellow eyeed stranger of yours.” Boe’s words were not accusatory. Just statements of what Allan had said.

“Bestiality!” Someone from the crowd crowed.

“Shape shifter!” another yelled.

“Red’s a witch!” 

“ENOUGH!” Boe bellowed. “Let them speak.”

“I’ll leave,” Jaskier said calmly, “Geralt is already gone… there’s no reason to drive us out with pitchforks and torches.” They turned their back to the mob and clipped Pegasus’ gear. The crowd was not pleased by the statement, and shouts erupted again. They were hungry for retribution, as Jaskier had feared. 

“You’re not denying it then, are you, Red Rider?” Allan’s voice called out, “It’s all true!”

Jaskier smoothed a hand along Pegasus’ soft nose, unsure if they could actually talk their way out of this one. 

“Check the cottage—they’re hiding something still!”

“—should burn it—“

“Lies!”

A few from the crowd moved over to the cottage, began peering through the windows and testing the doors. 

“I said he’s gone. There’s nothing inside…” Jaskier said again, but knew no one was truly listening. 

“Get away from the cottage or I’ll have you arrested.” Councillor Boe barked at the townspeople. She turned back to Jaskier then. “You have nothing to say about this?” She asked.

“I told you Councillor, I sai-”

“Shut up Allen.” Boe snapped then looked back to Jaskier.

“My Grandmother taught me that when people come to your door with torches and malevolence, there’s often very little one can say to dissuade them.” They lifted their chin a little, “I’d rather take my chances with the witch in the woods than people who will jump to destroy something they don’t understand.” They knew that was not the answer Boe was looking for, not really, “And I would say that I don’t believe that it’s Geralt who poses a threat… Rather that he responds to them.” They levelled a dark glare at the townsfolk who were certainly not heeding the Councillor’s orders and had trampled the garden to crack the window open to see inside. 

“I believe you.” Boe said. It was unfortunate that there was no one with Boe that could help her stand up to Allan and the mob. The reality was that she could bark as many orders and threats of arrest that she wanted but there was no way she could control this situation. Jaskier could tell from the look in her eyes that she knew it too. 

“Go back to the woods WITCH!” someone yelled shrilly. A tomato sailed out of the crowd and missed Jaskier’s face narrowly. Pegasus whinnied and strained along the hitching line. Jaskier smoothed their hand over their neck, cursing. If they just let them go, they would go back to the woods…

“I said I’ll leave.” They tried again, but Allan stepped up. 

“And who then is going to pay for the crime of Colby’s murder, Buttercup?”

“My SON is Dead! Someone needs to answer for that!” Colby’s Mother shouted from the crowd. That just made more people shout from the crowd.

It seemed that the crowd was magically growing Allan a pair of balls because he walked up to Jaskier and jabbed a finger against their chest. “I want that monster’s head on a pike.”

“If you think that has any chance of earning my affection, you’re an idiot, Allan.” Jaskier hissed, low enough for just him to hear, “You think that inciting fear and hatred are going to make you happy?” 

“Enough, Allan. We’ll take Jaskier to the town hall, hold them until there can be a fair trial—”

“You brought this on yourself.” Allan hissed back, and his hand trailed down the hem of Jaskier’s cape—right over where the silver brooch had been pinned,“Hope your dog enjoys my gift.” His smile was a vile one and then he raised his tone to the crowd. “Red has already all but admitted to his crimes!”

“Allan!” Boe yelled.

Jaskier watched in horror; there were too many. Councillor Boe wouldn’t have a way to stop them all—there was a crash of glass from the cottage. Someone had gotten in through the window and broken something inside by their fall. The crowd outside gathered round in behind Allan, nodding and milling. They were getting anxious to see someone pay. 

Jaskier gripped Pegasus’ reins in their hand. They might be able to outrun them… but Pegasus was not a swift steed, and wouldn’t be able to run through the rocky woods. Their eyes darted around, trying to judge the best way out. 

Allan’s hand darted out to grab Jaskier’s cloak in his fist. “You aren’t going anywhere.”

Jaskier knew the moment that Allan touched them that it was all over. There was a vicious bark from the woods and Geralt charged out of them to knock Allan off his feet. He put his big paws on the man’s chest, ready to tear out his throat.

The mob was close and quick to respond—this was the beast they’d been promised. Jaskier was knocked aside and cried out when the townsfolk descended upon Geralt’s furred form, halting his attack with the combined weight of their rush. Geralt should have been able to react to that, but then Jaskier heard a yelp and a growl—something was wrong, this was bad.

Geralt was pulled back, several brutes along his back and at his flanks, one had brought a rope along with their torch, had trussed several quick loops around his muzzle and wrenched it tightly. 

“Stop it!” Jaskier yelled; they couldn’t help themself. “You monsters, stop!” 

Geralt struggled as best he could growling and pulling his lips back in warning as Allan laughed. He got up and dusted himself off. “He’s just as vicious as I feared.” He looked over his shoulder at Jaskier. “Good thing I knew where to find Wolfsbane in the woods.”

Geralt lashed out with his paws, gouging a man deep in the chest with his claws. The man’s cries of pain only seemed to spur the mob on and they made short work of getting Geralt’s front legs tied and hobbled.

Jaskier was panicking and they had to try—something, anything—they stepped forward.

“Allan... please.” Their clear blue eyes flicked up from Geralt’s Wolf form to the man in front, “You’re right…” They added, tears pricking at the corners of their eyes. They sucked in a breath, “Please don’t do this, I’ll… I’ll do anything.”

“Anything?” Allan smiled wickedly, “Come with me now. Be my partner and I’ll see if I can get them to spare him.” He reached for Jaskier again, drawing his thumb along their jaw line.

Jaskier tried not to recoil at the touch, tried not to run towards the wolf whine that called their bones. The crowd snarled by their captive, and Jaskier could make out faces in the torchlight, all peering towards them. They wanted them to confess. They wanted to be proved right. 

“I should have known I couldn’t outsmart you.” Jaskier said, loud enough for all the mob to hear. “You know the stories, we all do. Witches and wolves rarely win in fairytales… They’re the dark forces that need to be brought into the light, right?” They forced a chuckle and took a step towards Allan. “I would listen to all the tales very closely… I thought I could learn from them my whole life: I was enchanted by this stranger in the woods, nursed him back to health, cooked for him… Fucked him…” There was a collective gasp from the crowd, “All because I believed in fairytale’s true love. But I suppose that’s my naivety showing, isn’t it, Allan Selkirk?” They said his name pointedly, purposefully and kept their eye contact crackling with a heated intent. 

“Very naive indeed.” Allan sneered in reply. “Aren’t you lucky to have a man who cares for you to set you straight.” It was a statement. Not a question. Geralt let a deep growl at that and threw himself into another heave towards Allan. He was unsuccessful. 

“Oh yes, you’re proving to be so smart, I don’t know how I could have missed it.” Jaskier’s gaze narrowed ever so slightly, “Following me around all these years without me knowing, befriending the stupid rabble to be able to control them,” The crowd made some displeased noises at that, “Learning how to find some of the most dangerous poison that is known in witchcraft and also learning so much about the lore of Werewolves to be able to identify a Wolf kin from one of their three shapes…”

“I watched him CHANGE!” Allan told Jaskier. It seemed that he was too eager to clear himself of being branded a witch that he didn’t realize he was making himself look less clever. “It didn’t take some occult knowledge to figure it out. And Wolfsbane is a well known deterrent to beasts like him.” He looked at Jaskier with disdain. “What happened to the simpering thing that was begging for the monster’s life? I’m guessing you don’t love it as much as you thought.”

“Beasts like him…” Jaskier echoed, allowing a moment to let their gaze slide to Geralt’s. Yellow eyes followed their every move. Gods, they hoped they were right about all this. They looked back to Allan, who was smug and his gaze hungrily clawed over their features. They suppressed another shudder, “The fairy tales have taught me one thing, Allan—and that’s to be careful to separate fact from fiction…”

The wind had picked up, and the clouds were scaled across the sky, thick and thin—and the dark night chose that precise moment to reveal its most potent lore. The moon’s light broke through the veil cast, cold, pale and full. 

“For all your smarts, Allan Selkirk… you’re pretty fucking stupid.”

There was a bark of a growl as the moonlight hit Geralt’s form. A full body shudder went through him and for a moment the mob could do nothing but stare and wait for the inevitable. Geralt curled in on himself a moment before his spine bowed out, popping and cracking as it expanded. He started to grow in size, legs elongating and muzzle growing until the ropes simply gave out. 

The creature he was morphing into was decidedly more humanoid. Far larger than any human man and certainly larger than the wolf form he had worn moments earlier. The werewolf stood, panting from the uncontrollable change a moment before letting a loud howl to the moon.

That's when chaos broke out. One woman in the crowd screamed and it was followed by countless others. The silence was broken into a cacophony as people scrambled to get away. There was the sound of more glass being broken and Geralt leapt at the crowd. His jaws wrapped around someone's leg and their scream curdled the blood of those around them.

“Bloody Hell!” Allan swore, staring at Geralt, frozen in place from fear.

“You brought this on yourself…” Jaskier echoed Allan’s own words back to him, scanning around to try to find Councillor Boe in the chaos. They saw her, cowering behind the large planter by the back door of the cottage, but she fled as another crash sounded from inside, and a flicker of light cast over the scene outside. Pegasus whinnied, a high shriek in the confusion and Jaskier cried out as Allan suddenly gripped their throat. 

“I WILL have you.” Allan snarled. His fingers curled deeper into Jaskier’s throat and he started to manhandle Jaskier over to a barrel. “One way or another.” Allen pulled the cloak back and moments later, Jaskier felt a sharp blade by their kidneys. Another shriek sounded from the crowd as Geralt claimed another victim.

Jaskier struggled, and the blade dug dangerously into their side, they gasped—Allan had the advantage as he leaned over them, pressing them down onto the cooper’s rim. 

“You won’t…” they ground out, still fighting as much as the angle allowed, but Allan held them down by the head, pressing their cheek into the wood grain, and they could feel him fumbling for himself below his belt. Oh gods, they felt sick. “Get the fuck off of me!” 

“I will” Allan growled into Jaskier’s ear. The knife traveled lower to cut at the ties holding Jaskier’s pants on their hips. “I’m going to enjoy this.”

Jaskier felt the wind whip against their exposed flanks, and a strange calm settled into their breath. 

“I really think you’re wrong—“ Jaskier grunted as they threw a kick out backwards as soon as they felt the knife blade leave their skin. Their foot caught the inside of Allan’s knee and they felt it crumple his stance. They rolled off the side of the barrel just in time—but their cape was pinned to the barrel by the down awards arc of the blade and it held them to the barrel like a leash. 

Allan scrambled up off the ground and moved to pin down Jaskier once more. “Feisty little bitch aren’t you?”

“I have to be,” Jaskier snarled, “Because I’m Geralt’s bitch, and now he’s going to come and eat you.” A wild glint ignited in the corner of Little Red’s blue eyes and they howled. 

~

Geralt’s ears perked at the sound of his mate howling. It made the wolf in him sing. He looked up in Jaskier’s direction, some one’s arm dangling from his maw. Then he saw what was happening. He let a growling roar, dropping the arm. He moved then, rage filling him further. Until he was atop Allan once more.

He didn’t hesitate this time. His jaws came down, tearing out Alan’s throat, ending his scream. His blood tasted like vengeance when it hit his tongue. Allan’s spine cracked beneath his teeth as easily as the bones of a bird. Even in his weakened state, Geralt’s rage fueled him.

How dare this human touch his mate. How dare he try to claim what was his. With another snap, Geralt raised his head and tossed Allan’s head to Jaskier’s feet. A gift. An offering. A sacrifice.

Jaskier watched it fall, looked back up at Geralt and sat panting for a moment as if time had stood still. There was an understanding of something grand and undefinable. The mob’s clamour fell away, and the growing flickering light, the screams and sobs. 

“Enough.” Jaskier’s voice was whisper-soft like moonlight. “...For now.”

At the command, Geralt felt his form untense. He moved towards his mate then, bending low to press his huge nose into Jaskier’s hand.

They smelled like they’d made up their mind. Councillor Boe emerged and hesitated at the edge of the firelit garden—she moved in with the uncertainty of wishing to flee, but there was a pleading look in her eyes. 

“We’re leaving.” Jaskier affirmed, “I don’t really think there’s much left… Please find a place for the chickens.” 

The woman hesitated, stinking of fear as he stared. She nodded woodenly. “I will, Red… I’m- I’m sorry. I tried.”

Geralt let a growl. In his eyes the woman had not tried hard enough. But he didn’t move from Jaskier’s side. They had said enough and this was their people. Their home. He would obey.

Red Rider fixed Boe with a long look, “Don’t come looking in the forest for me, unless you have a need; but I’ve no interest in broken promises, I’ve hungry wolves to feed.” 

The cottage roof burst into flames from the smouldering crackles from the interior fire—a window pane smashed and a jet of flame licked upwards. 

Boe gave a nervous nod and hurried to help an injured man to his feet. Together they hobbled off. Geralt watched them go. The itch to hunt and maim and kill was strong. Especially with the moon so full and human blood on his tongue. But he resisted. 

Instead, He nuzzled his bloody muzzle into Jaskier’s side before rearing up to his full height. He let a long loud howl carry upwards to the moon. One that came from deep in his belly. A reminder to the survivors what lurked in the trees to end them should they stand against his little Red Rider.


	5. Beware the Bard in the Bubble Bath

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A winter cottage, a hot hot bath, and a few tasty morsels.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yesitsbread: the end is here! Thank you all for keeping up with this arc (maybe there’s more, so be sure to bookmark us authors/the series) and we’d love to hear from you on your favorite bits of the story! Bread for everyone! We’ll see you with our next story!
> 
> Hmmmbo: I am really touched by the response we've gotten for this little fic. Thank you to every one of you who commented on this and cheered us on. <3

The first frost settled into the forest of the mountain pass, the crystalline brook grumbled tenaciously through the fringes of ice that cracked along its surface, and the sound of woodcutting split the silence of the autumnal scene. 

Little Red Rider was chopping wood for the stack, working up a sweat from the task so much they’d removed their shirt and a thin steam rose from their shoulders and puffed out in clouds with their breath. A few more would finish off the cord, and perhaps would be an excellent night to pull and heat enough water for a bath. Jaskier had to admit, their granny had installed quite a system—a copper tank outside the cabin to heat water as well as fuel the oven; the room was cozy, even more so than the cottage in the village, but cozy was good when one would be keeping warm all winter. 

Granny had also kept a detailed dry store room, dug underneath the cabin; a small cellar for preserves and the odd bottle of vintage; a slightly overgrown garden with fruit trees and brambles that would likely bear again with some attention in the spring… everywhere Jaskier looked there was possibility.

Granny had also left a small library, filled with grimoires and a letterbox that had held some of her life’s correspondences and a note: addressed to Red. 

“I imagine you’ll find your way here just like I did,” it read, “And here’s hoping you find yourself some good strong comforts to surround yourself with. Gods be known I needed them myself. Be kind, Jaskier, never refuse help to those who are gracious enough to ask for it, and knock some sense into the heads of those not wise enough to ask for it. Keep your eyes out for handsome huntsmen. I’ve heard many tales…” 

Another chop, and the split log tumbled off the block and they tossed it onto the pile. They wiped at their glistening brow and checked the sun’s path in the sky. Late afternoon. Time for tea… and perhaps they may be able to convince that wolf of theirs to bathe with them…

“Aren’t YOU a sight.” Said wolf purred as he entered the small clearing, slipping from the woods like the wild thing he was. He was wearing clothes for once. Now that the days were getting cooler, He tended to reach for Grannies warm woolen skirts and sweaters. He was still vehemently against pants, which was something that Jaskier could not bring themselves to complain about.

Since moving back out here, Geralt seemed to have slipped into his comfort zone. It was not that he seemed uncomfortable before, in the town. He just seemed more at home than he ever had. He reveled in completing tasks for Jaskier and happily did any chore asked of him. The chickens especially were something he tended to without being asked.

The night after they had settled themselves when they fled the town, Geralt snuck into the night without Jaskier knowing. It must have taken the fool wolf all night but by morning there were ten chickens and one rooster occupying the coop that had been left on Grannie’s land. Geralt had stolen them one by one from Councillor Boe’s yard.

The flock went mad when they saw Jaskier that morning and circled them clucking. As it turned out, Boe had taken care of them. Long enough to be stolen anyway. Now Geralt tended to them as if they had been his all along.

Jaskier set down their axe and beckoned Geralt over, drawing him in with a hand in his hair and soft lips on his. 

“Just finished for now… I’m hungry and dirty and need to do something about both of those things… perhaps you’ll be able to help me?” They laughed—their words had truth to them in more ways than one. 

Geralt deepened the kiss, nipping at Jaskier’s lips. “What if I wish to feast on you for lunch?” he asked. His hands encircled Jaskier’s trim waist posessively as he pulled them closer. 

“My, my, what a big appetite you have,” Jaskier teased, squirming into Geralt’s grasp until they fit snugly against him. “And as much as I am tempted,” they gestured down to the chopping block, “to bend you over the chopping block and show you just what an expert I am at splitting things apart… I have another thought in mind.” Their grin was wicked and they pulled Geralt towards the cabin. “Don’t worry Wolf, I promise you’ll get to ravish me when I am satisfied.” 

“Hmm…” it was easy to push Geralt and Jaskier knew that he was allowing himself to be manhandled. “Some oils perhaps… Your shoulders look a little tense. I could rub them for you.” It was a statement not a question, but Jaskier hummed an affirmative anyway.

When they got back to the cottage, Geralt set to making a bath. Jaskier’s Granny had built herself a decadence. A wooden tub that sat close enough to the fire for the person inside it to feel the heat. Along with the copper tank, she had managed to fashion a tube that drained the water outside and to the garden at the bottom of the hill that the cottage sat on.

Granny was clever indeed.

By the time that the bath was filled, Geralt had worked up a sweat of his own. He pulled up a wooden table, lit some candles for them and tossed a few handfuls of lavender into the water. There had been an abundance of it when they arrived that they harvested and dried.

Jaskier picked at the morsels they were assembling for the table as they watched. They set the wooden platter with a buttery cheese, golden honey, and soft bread close to hand with a small smile at Geralt.

They dipped a hand in the tub to test it and sighed. “Mmm. That’s magnificent. You getting in with me right away?”

Geralt hesitated at that. "With YOU yes…" it was no secret that baths were not Geralt's favorite thing. But by now, Jaskier had managed to convince him that a lick down in wolf form didn't count.

“Come here…” Jaskier murmured and drew him into them, pressing up against him as they kissed him. They draped their arms lazily over his shoulders and wriggled when Geralt’s hands slid down their bare torso to their hips. “You can help me take these off,” The tips of Geralt’s fingers had hooked beneath the hem of their red britches, “A lot of things are easier with each other.” 

"Mmm yes. That's true." Geralt a fingers slid along the waist band of the britches to the front where he pulled on the ties there. "RED britches." He tutted. So scandalous."

“Haven’t you heard?” Jaskier grinned, letting their breath play warmly across Geralt’s lips. They loved the feeling of Geralts strong-and-soft hands, and they smoothed over the tops of their thighs to elicit another sigh, laced with want. “I’m quite the scandal.” They were already half-hard under the promise of Geralt’s hands. “Now put me in the bath because I’m far too filthy.” 

Geralt made sure the red britches were off completely before scooping Jaskier up into his arms. He gave them a deep sweet kiss as he lowered them into the steaming fragrant water. "There you go." He repositioned so he could grab up the soap and use it to slick up his hands. He dug his fingers into his mates shoulders then, providing the promised me massage 

Jaskier let out a little moan and leaned back fully into the steaming water. The heat was heaven on their muscles, and the scent of the lavender was overwhelming their senses. Geralt’s strong thumbs dug circles into the achy spots, and Jaskier’s head lolled to the side.

“Such… a considerate Beast.” They hummed after a prolonged moment of enjoying their Wolf working them over. “You could put me to sleep with those strokes if you’re not careful… Now I may be a little cleaner… but I’m still famished.” They said slyly, a glance over to the table. “Feed me, Geralt.”

“Someone is feeling rather royal today.” Geralt teased. He pulled up a chair though and perched on it. He cut a thin slice of cheese (this one, Jaskier said was to be eaten thinner) and leaned in to place it on Jaskier’s waiting tongue. He let his fingers caress their lower lip as he pulled back to spread some honey onto the bread.

Jaskier let the morsel melt on their tongue and they sighed again, feeling decadent. 

“The Royal Red Rider… has a nice ring to it,” they grinned and shifted in the bath, letting their arms hang over the side and they let one lazy finger play with the hem of Geralt’s skirt, tracing a sneaky line upwards along his hairy calf. They held their mouth open in anticipation, their coy action not lost of their Wolf. 

Geralt tore a bite sized piece of bread with his fingers and fed it to Jaskier. This time he leaned in to clean the honey from their lips with his tongue . "It does"

Jaskier swallowed before they opened their mouth to Geralt’s kiss. They tasted of honey and wanted to share, “More please, my Wolf.” They muttered, a wet hand rising up Geralt’s thigh now. A gentle squeeze accompanied the soft press of Red Rider’s lips. 

"Hmmm." Geralt kissed them again before pulling back and offering more honeyed bread. "And what do you want more of?" He asked, teasingly.

Jaskier’s tongue stretched to catch a droplet of honey from the edge—but instead of closing their mouth around the bread, they licked down Geralt’s fingers, chasing the taste of honey with the salt of his skin. Their eyes glittered. 

“Something that might stuff my mouth full, I imagine.” 

That was apparently very amusing because Geralt snorted and then shoved the rest of the bread into Jaskier’s mouth with a laugh. Jaskier sloshed the water in protest, but their derisive snort was followed by a helpless giggle. They puffed their cheeks around the soft mouthful and chewed it down. 

“You. Need a bath. Get in here you naughty thing.”

Geralt scowled and stood so he could peel off his now wet shirt and get out of the skirt. He paused at the side of the bath, his fingers touching the surface. “I had one yesterday…”

“It’s not going to be that kind of bath, Geralt.” Jaskier turned and smirked, floating the tantalizing curve of their ass up to the surface of the hot water. 

The sight of Jaskier’s pert little ass cresting the surface of the water did the trick and Geralt was soon easing into the water to run his hands over the skin presented to him with a hungry look. 

“Have you eaten yet…?” Jaskier grinned over their shoulder, and they slid their legs to the sides of the tub so Geralt would have enough room to settle. They hummed at his touch and rocked back slightly. 

Geralt moved between Jaskier’s legs and up his body so he could drop kisses along his shoulders. “I snacked on a rabbit earlier. Nothing… substantial though.” his teeth caught on Jaskier’s skin as Geralt’s erection slid between their cheeks. 

Jaskier pressed back into the motion that pulled a low moan from their throat. Geralt’s cock was as hard as the water was hot, and it made Jaskier’s cheeks tint red with all the promises it made their body ache for. 

“M-my, what sharp teeth you have…” Jaskier chuckled breathily, “Whatever shall I do if you decide to eat me up?” 

Geralt’s chuckle was dark and his teeth pressed harder against Jaskier’s skin a moment. “Either allow me to ravage you. Or fight back and show me your teeth.” He rocked his hips, letting his cock slide along Jaskier’s perineum and along their balls.

“O fuck, those both sound like fantastic options—” Jaskier babbled quickly, feeling the heady rush of arousal. Their own cock pulsed in interest, and was not going to help with that decision. “Can’t I have both? Can’t I snarl and growl at you to ravage me right now you Big, Bad Wolf or I shall find the tenderest places to bite you sharply?” Jaskier’s tone was husky, and they reached a hand up and behind to grasp into Geralt’s hair and hold his mouth to their neck. 

Geralt groaned, nipping the skin there before laving his tongue against Jaskier’s pale flesh. His fingers traveled lower to stroke over Jaskier’s cock before sliding up to circle their hole. “I think that I should wait then. Draw out my ravaging so that your teeth find my flesh.”

“Uhngg…” Jaskier gulped, “D-dammit, Wolf! That’s—“ they hissed as Geralt’s thumbs spread apart their ass cheeks and stretched their hole between them, “That’s a very bad thing to do. A very big bad thing…” their tone would imply perhaps it wasn’t all bad though. 

“I am the Big Bad Wolf, am I not?” Geralt asked. He moved lower, letting his teeth graze the edge of Jaskier’s scapula.

They moaned underneath him again and drew themselves up onto the edge of the bath to give Geralt a little more above-water room to explore the expanse of their back. 

“How bad you think you can be, my Beast?”

“I could take you right now with no prep… but kindness and badness are not the same thing.” his next bite was right on the swell of Jaskier’s ass. 

“Oh,” Jaskier let out a small gasp, and their cock jumped up against their belly, “You could…? You could slam that thick cock of yours all the way in in a single thrust… right up against my—ah!” They flinched at the next bite, along the crease of their thigh where the skin was thinner and softer, “I mean… nothing’s precisely stopping you from—”

Another dark chuckle. “That would hurt you would it not?” still, one finger breached Jaskier’s ass and wriggled in to press insistently against their prostate.

Jaskier huffed, “Yes, it would,” they let out a whine, “I would also like it… a lot.” They wiggled against Geralt’s hand, humping forward into the frictionless bath water. 

“My kinky little human.” Geralt purred. He reached to the little table he had set up for some of the salve they used for sex. He pressed some inside Jaskier and then coated his cock generously. He held his cock in one hand to line up and wrapped the other possessively around his mate’s shoulders. With that, He bit down on the nape of Jaskier’s neck and started to slowly push his cock into them.

Jaskier gasped as the head of Geralt’s cock breached them and then started to stretch them. 

“O fuck…” they moaned, their eyes rolling up and closed. “So, so much—“ they babbled around breathy syllables. They gripped the edge of the tub with one hand, the other had fallen to hold alongside Geralt’s muscled arm, clutching their fingers over his. “N-no don’t slow down!” They barked sharply and held Geralt to them as they rocked their hips backwards onto him, filling themselves to his hilt. They gasped in, and they held it for a long moment—they held it until their body began to rock again, rippling the bathwater. 

Geralt nuzzled at the back of Jaskier’s neck, pushing his nose into Jaskier’s hair and inhaling deeply. “I still can’t believe you let me- beg for me to do this to you.” he rasped. His voice already sounded ruined and heavy with pleasure.

Jaskier’s ears pricked at Geralt’s tone, “If it’s begging you want, Geralt… I will do so happily as long as you promise me you’ll come so hard into my ass that I’ll still be dripping by breakfast.” Their lips hung open in a wanton grin as they panted.

“With your ass being so tight like this and so hot from the bath I don’t see that being a problem.” Jaskier could feel Geralt trembling with the effort to keep himself from thrusting. He really was a considerate beast.

“Ahhh, Geralt I just—“ they puffed and arched back, trying to garner more friction from their stoic mate, “I know you worry about hurting me, love…” they leaned into the tremor, their voice a melodic grumble, “but I am begging, please split me in half with that Big Bad Cock—“ each word was punctuated with a pulse and a squeeze, “and invent a new ecstasy for me to howl to.”

“With pleasure.” Geralt growled in return. He shifted one hand to Jaskier’s hip, the other braced onto the tub. He pulled back, letting his thick cock slide out of Jaskier’s ass torturously slow. Then Just as Jaskier was about to complain, Geralt slammed his cock home inside of them, forcing all the breath from their lungs. 

Jaskier pushed back as hard as they could, but was still rocked against the rim of the rub with a wave of bathwater and a solid stop. Their breath stuttered in as Geralt pulled back out again, slow once more, “Uh… yes, Geralt like tha--Aah!” Another thrust and a wet splash as Jaskier was slammed forward again. The water tripped over the tub’s edge and dripped onto the floor from their fingers as they clung to the tub, “Yes, you Beast--f-fuck me like a Bitch… Yours--”

The moment Jaskier said ‘bitch’ Geralt’s teeth found their skin again. This time closing over the round of Jaskier’s shoulder. “Mine” He growled against their skin. He picked up speed then, pulling out as fast as he thrust in. “You feel so good Jas- Fuck you’re tight for me.”

“Ahaa--” Jaskier vocalized as Geralt picked up his pace. The sounds of sloshing water and the rhythmic smack of Geralt’s thighs and bollocks against Jaskier’s firm ass added to their melodious gasping. “Geraaalt…” They called his name, holding on to his arm with their own, as if they could bring him closer together by their clenching. “F-f-fuck me…” Their words were made staccato by the rapid thrusts, “Just like--” The rest dissolved into unintelligible enthusiasm. 

Geralt let the arm that was wrapped around them lower so he could slide his hand down their belly towards their cock. He grasped it and started stroking in time with his thrusts. “You going to come for me Red?”

Jaskier let out a long whine beneath him, their hips rocking forward into his hand and backwards onto his cock.

“F-fuck yes,” They gulped, “I want you to make me come, Geralt… I’ll be close if you keep doing th--aah…” Their hips stuttered again caught between a deep thrust and a long stroke, “You’re thick, I can feel you so deep; I want to feel you come inside me, Wolf… Make me come, do it.” They dared, their voice gruff and ragged, and their pleas turned into a repeated chant of affirmative growls and begging gasping as their Wolf bent them to his rhythm. Jaskier could feel it building; a steady pressure warmer than the water that surrounded them that worked its way up from their toes and down from their temples along their spine. Their bollocks pulled up tight towards the base of their cock, and they dripped into Geralt’s hand. “Oh gods--s-so close…”

“Do it Jaskier.” Geralt panted. “Be a good bitch and come for your mate.” With that, He latched his teeth down at the nape of Jaskier’s neck again. He didn’t slow, keeping the grueling pace. His whole form was tense though with his own oncoming orgasm. 

Jaskier gave over to the stimulation; their climax washed over them like the bathwater spilling over the rim of the tub, and their hips trembled in between the dual-stimulation of Geralt’s thick cock and his firm strokes. They came over Geralt’s hand—and onto their chest, chin, and over the rim of the tub. They closed their eyes as their body shivered around Geralt’s continued pace, “Yessss,” they hissed, “Ah yes, Geralt!” 

At the sound of his name, Geralt came, crying out Jaskier’s name. He thrust himself hard and deep into their body to push his cum deep inside of them. Finally, Geralt pulled his teeth off of Jaskier’s neck. Now that the moment was simmering down, the spot ached as blood ran back to the area. Jaskier knew they would bruise.

As if reading their mind, Geralt soothed the area with tender kisses. “That was amazing.” He murmured into their skin. “You’re so beautiful Jaskier.” His hand released their cock and slid back up over their hip to press once more against their belly. Such possessive touches. "So perfect for me."

Jaskier leaned into the affections, humming harmoniously with the sentiments. 

“O, Geralt—my Wolf, my love, my silly Beast…” the list tripped off their tongue like a verse from a song, “Loving you is like a bounteous feast;  
With so much there to eat and lick…  
Not to mention, of course that big bad dick…”

They laughed and turned in Geralt’s arms, looping an embrace around his shoulders, “And I shall be your Rider fair,  
With Dandelions to crown my hair,  
And tales shall call me the Forest Witch,  
Little Red Rider, the White Wolf’s Bitch.”

Geralt’s grin was toothy as he pulled Jaskier to straddle him. There was not much water left. Most of it had sloshed to the floor but it was worth it. He pressed his forehead to Jaskier’s, holding him close. “You are going to inflate my ego with these rhymes of yours.”

Jaskier chuckled, “Then what a big head you’ll have…” They laughed, and Geralt splashed them with some more water. The floor was a mess, and dinner had been forgotten, but Jaskier agreed it was worth it--all of it. 

The cottage was filled with joy (and many baths) that season, and the woods surrounding it seemed to pay special care to help its newest inhabitants settle in. Whether for sustenance or treatment, the woods would provide. The winter moons were pale and cold, but enchanted by the melodious howls of a not-so-lone Wolf and their laughing-brightly Mate.

The towns on either side of the mountain pass would tell their stories--a dangerous Beast rumored to be held at bay by the magic of the Witch of the Woods; offerings left out for them to help protect livestock, or to cure sickness when it struck the town, and always they would be gone by morning, and the flock would remain safe or the illness would lift. 

Some with an emboldened task would take it upon themselves to seek out the Witch, though stories to be wary of the Wolf deterred many… Only the boldest would seek out the Cottage in the Woods beyond the pass.

But perhaps they would, and perhaps their story may be told yet.

Until then, Little Red Rider and their Wolf will live happily and wait.


End file.
